Apart From Ashes
by Medusa Green
Summary: Recently divorced, Arthur Kirkland, now is stuck in a loop of self-pity and wallowing as he begins to struggle dealing with his two teenage boys. His job also begins to cause a heavy amount of stress in him as a string of murders is now a top priority case for him. FrUK/FACE Family
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Endings**

Large cardboard boxes clustered around the small city house. Sitting on the bottom of the staircase, Alfred watched as unnamed men carried the heavy boxes to the van. The lump in his throat swelled up as each box left the house. He took off his glasses and rubbed them clean with the edge of his pyjama bottoms. It was still early in the morning, the streets weren't as busy as usual and Alfred was glad of that. It meant that he didn't have to watch his neighbours whisper about his family's troubles.

"They're still loading up that truck, eh?" a small hushed voice came from behind him.

"Dude!" Alfred snapped to his feet in sheer fright. "Don't sneak up on me like that!" He put his hand on his chest, feeling his heart rate slow back down to its normal rhythm.

His younger twin brother, Matthew, stood with his hands behind his back. "I tried to call for you a second ago but you weren't listening to me. I didn't mean to startle you." He pinged a long stray curl that poked out from the top of his head.

Alfred sighed and sat back down on the step. Leisurely, Matthew sat next to him, tucking his knees under his chin. A small noise came from his brother and troublingly Matthew looked up at the dusty blond boy.

"Are you…" Matthew strained his eyes. "Are you crying?"

Surprised, Alfred whipped at his eyes with his fingertips. "No, I'm not," he lied through watery tears. "I'm too cool to cry."

Matthew smiled towards his brother as his own eyes started to mist. His arm went around his shoulders in a comforting manner. "It's okay," he murmured. "I feel like crying too."

Heavy footsteps dragged themselves from the back room towards the two brothers. Both Matthew and Alfred rubbed their wet eyes to look at the man approaching. The blond hair, bushy eye browed man didn't look in their direction nor did he acknowledge their presence. He instead moved towards the small hooks by the door and pulled a dark leather jacket from one of them. He wrapped the jacket under his arm and started to walk towards the door.

"D-da-" Alfred began.

The suited blond man stood just before the main door. "Your father will take you to lunch today, and then he'll drop you off by my office." He finally looked at the boys, the best attempt at a fake smile on his mouth. "I'll see you later."

He quickly turned away from the boys and walked out through the open door, unintentionally slamming it behind him. The harshness of the door slam made the two boys tighten their eyes.

"At least we won't have to eat his terrible food for lunch," Alfred laughed, trying to make light of the situation.

Matthew let out an awkward chuckle at his brother's attempt at a joke. The laughter between the two was hollow and empty.

Outside their house, was a dirty white moving van. Arthur, the suited man, walked past the men who were carrying large stacks of cardboard boxes, without giving them any notice. Despite not knowing them, he hated how they looked, how they dressed, how they were so happy in their labour job. Inside he cursed them all. He spotted two of them laughing about something, their happiness made Arthur stare them down until they took notice and awkwardly went back to work. He hastily got into his car and drove out of the driveway.

Leaving the two boys pained his already sorrowful heart. He gripped the steering wheel tight as he drove away from his appealing little broken home. However, there was a small part of him which never wanted to drive back there, knowing what awaited him – or more what no longer did await him.

Francis looked up at the clock. It was nearing seven am, Arthur would be heading to work about now. A sickly feeling set itself inside his gut and he prepared himself to leave. He patted his pockets checking that he had both his keys and wallet. Grabbing his cell phone he punched in some numbers and pressed the sleek black block to his ear.

"Hola, Francis," said a strong voice from the other line.

"It was merely to check that you were still free for this morning?" he asked.

"Si," chimed the voice. "Gilbert and myself will fix your place right up! No problemo!"

Francis sighed and took a step towards a small mirror which hung just by his apartment door. "Merci, mon ami," he said, feeling as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

"I'll give you a call when we're all done," he said happily.

"Yes sure." Francis ran his hand through his sleek blond hair. He took notice to the tiredness in his eyes and grumbled.

"Enjoy your lunch," said the cheery voice.

"Oui," groaned Francis. "Au revoir."

With a heavy grumble in the back of his throat he thrusted the phone into the back pocket of his jeans. Using his fingers, he combed his hair and headed out the door with a heavy hearted sigh. He took the stairs down the main door of the building – since the elevator was being repaired.

Entering the parking lot, Francis gave a slight nod to one of his neighbours who was heading to work.

"Mornin'," cheerily said his neighbour.

Francis got into his car, not having enough energy to engage into small talk with his neighbour. It was almost summer time and the inside of his car was hot enough to make him break out in a sweat. He rolled down his front seat window and started to drive towards his old home.

Matthew was still pulling on a fresh shirt when Francis rang the doorbell. The moving van had left around ten minutes ago, leaving the twins alone in their eerily quiet house.

"Alfred! Matthew!" called Francis from outside. "C'est votre pére. Open up!" He rang the doorbell again.

"Alfred! Door!" called Matthew from his room. There was no answer so Matthew called to his brother louder than before.

Impatiently, Francis began pressing the doorbell non-stop. For a second he thought breaking down the door. He knew Arthur was at work as he spotted his car missing from the drive way. While the twins were old enough to be left at home alone, that still didn't stop the worried feeling which was settling in his gut. He was just about to break down the door when a huffing Matthew unlocked it.

"Sorry, papa," said Matthew.

"What took so long?" asked Francis, taking a step into the house. "You had me worried, Matthew. Did you not hear me yelling?"

"I was in the middle of getting dressed," he informed his father, closing the door behind him.

Francis stood awkwardly in the hallway. He felt unwelcomed in his old home, despite Arthur not being present.

"Where is your brother?" he asked the teenager.

"In his room I think." Matthew started to head back up the stairs. "I'll go get him then."

Matthew knocked on his brother's door; he let himself in when nothing but silence came from his bedroom. Alfred was sitting on his bed, his nose deep into a comic book with a super-size packet chips by his side. Matthew said his name but Alfred acted as if he didn't exist. Slightly louder, and more irritated, Matthew called for his brother again. Matthew took a step into his brother's room and noticed a faint rhythm, emanating from Alfred. Black strings flowed outwards from his ears. Rolling his eyes, Matthew went to his brother's side and yanked out an earphone.

"What the hell, bro?" snapped Alfred.

Before Alfred could say anymore Matthew quickly spoke up. "Papa is here. Are you ready to go?"

Alfred adjusted his glasses and set down his comic book. He stared up at his twin with a bright glint of annoyance in his eyes.

"Yeah," he grumbled. "I'm ready."

The twins closely walked together back down the stairs back to where Matthew left Francis. Watching his two boys pace down the stairs with such solemn emotions hanging from their faces made his heart shatter. He hated seeing them like this and hated himself even more knowing that he was one of the main reasons for their sorrow. Trying to counter their emotions, Francis pulled a huge grin on his face and zoomed to his children.

"Why such long faces?" he said happily, as he placed a hand on each of their shoulders. "Don't be so glum! After all, Papa Francis is taking you out for lunch." He gave them both a cheeky wink. "Plus, the two of you get a sneaky little day from school."

For the sake of their father the two boys put on a polite happy smile. With their father's poor excuse for a happy smile, the reality of their parents' divorce finally began to set in. Francis let go of their shoulders and started to walk out of the house, with the boys treading along behind them.

"So how is your new apartment coming along?" Matthew asked awkwardly as they headed for the car.

"It's great! I almost forgot how fun living alone could be," he said, sliding into the driver's seat and buckling into his seatbelt. "It means that I can basically strut around naked and have no one scold me."

"Papa!" yelled both of the boys, strapping into their own seatbelts in the back seat.

Francis used the rear-view mirror to look at the boys and laugh. "Oh, you boys hurt your dear papa. I thought I had taught you not to be prude." He winked at them through the mirror. "You two act just like-"

He cut himself off, knowing that any mention of Arthur would only hurt the boy's, already delicate, feelings.

"You can mention him you know?" said Alfred through the awkwardness. "Don't just act as if he doesn't exist."

"Alfred," sighed Francis heavily, as he turned the key into the ignition. "I know this is hard on you two." He drove out and into the street. "But, for a while it'll be awkward for both your father and I to even talk even about each other. Prepare yourself for that."

Matthew looked worryingly at his brother who was staring longingly out of the window.

"Even before you two got divorced you were always weird," Alfred murmured.

Francis griped the steering wheel tightly. Matthew seen the anger grow inside his father and feared an augments erupting between them. However, no argument came. Instead Francis just let Alfred's snide comment pass over him. He knew he was angry but felt that scolding the boy would accomplish nothing but more resentment to fester within Alfred.

Arthur pulled up the police tape allowing him access to the narrow ally way. He thought about how unusually cheery the weather was considering the crime scene he was about to inspect.

It was a young girl. Arthur recognized the school uniform as it had the same logo of the school both his sons went to.

"What kind of sonofabitch would do this?" he muttered, keeling down beside the girl.

There was several gash wounds all over her body. The main one which made Arthur's stomach turn was the thick pus-filled wound across her neck. Defence bruises were up and down her arm, there was also one yellow bruise on her cheek. He took a mental note of each mark which decorated her small, slender, milky body.

"It is horrific," said his partner, who stood behind him.

He looked behind him at the shoulder-length brown haired man. He took out his note pad and began to write things down in it. Arthur looked around the crime scene. After having his job for almost five years his eyes were sharp enough to spot any clues in almost any crime scene.

"It looks like she was just dumped here." He pulled out a glove from his pocket and pulled it onto his right hand. He noticed small traces of blood seeping from her eyes and he went to open them. "Bloody hell," he muttered. "Her eyes have been gorged out, Toris."

"Really?" said Toris, surprised. "What a strange thing to do."

A man dressed in a police uniform went up to the two. "Have you got all the information you need?" he asked, clearly sounding irritated.

Arthur snapped back to his feet. "Yes," he bit back. "Could you make sure the post-mortem report is sent to me as soon as possible?"

"Of course," the officer said, taking a small glance at the young highschooler. "Sick bastards."

He turned away and went back through the police tape. Arthur watched the officer leave and gave Toris a gesture to follow him back out the allyway. The two men left the girl to be slumped ungraciously into a body bag. After all the years in his job, Arthur never got used to seeing young people in body bags.

Every time he had to watch someone's son or daughter dead somewhere his mind immediately raced to his own children. At times he would wake up in a cold sweat previously dreaming about Alfred or Matthew being stone cold dead in one of those black zip bags. The dreams still haunted him but now he could no longer share his nightmares with his partner. Instead every time he woke up an empty bed would greet him.

_**A/N:**_

_**Firstly, I would like to point out that I am rather new to the hetalia fandom. I have done my very best to try and keep each and every character as canon as possible. Secondly, while I do write original content this is the first time I have written a fanfiction since I was around 13 (I'm currently 18 – 20 as of the latest edit below) so I've had to dust off some cobwebs for this. Thirdly, while this is rated M for mature do not expect a lot of smut. However, do expect graphic scenes such as the one above. Lastly, the FACE family is completely under-rated!**_

_**From the bottom of my heart I thank you for reading.**_

_**Edit 19/06/16: Fixed a few grammar issues and took out a few lines here and there. From this date I won't be posting a lot until I have edited all the chapters. This shouldn't take long and each edit will be posted for each chapter. **_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Paper Work**

With an awkward silence resting in the car, they drove to a petite Italian café just outside of the city. Since it was early afternoon the café was quite busy with the lunch time rush.

Francis ushered the twins into the Italian establishment. A gentle bell chimed through the café as the door opened. The owner of said café stood behind the counter pouring a burly blond man coffee. With a bright and cheery grin on his face, he looked towards the three.

Francis let a warm smile spread on his face. "Bonjour, Feliciano!"

The boys walked a head of their father and took up the only booth left at the back of the café. Francis, on the other hand went up to the counter to talk to the owner.

"Francis, ciao!" he exclaimed, setting down the steaming jug of coffee. "Feels like forever since I've seen you." He said, rubbing his hands on his apron.

"Well I've been a little…busy," he said, taking up the only stood next to the muscular blond. Francis gave a nod to the man who in turn also made a polite gesture.

"My brother informed me about what happened between you and Arthur, Francis. My deepest apologies," the blond man gave Francis a look of sympathy.

"Ludwig!" said Feliciano, in a panic. "I thought we agreed not to mention anything about you-know-who? I'm sorry Francis…I…I…" Franticly, Feliciano looked from Francis to Ludwig, a nervous but hyper active sweat breaking out on his forehead.

"It's quiet alright Feliciano," Francis said, waving his hand. "I'm actually glad someone isn't walking on eggshells. Merci, Ludwig."

"Bitte," Ludwig returned to nursing his coffee.

"Menus, s'il vous plaît?"

"Oh, si." Feliciano bent down into a compartment behind the counter and pulled out three menus. "Here you go. I'll have Alice take your order shortly."

Francis took the menus from the young Italian man and gave him a small nod. When he returned to the booth Matthew was heavily giggling at Alfred who had two breadsticks shoved into the top of his mouth.

"What are you doing?" Francis asked, sliding in beside Matthew.

"I'mma walrus," he said, his voice muffled by the breadsticks.

"Take those out." Francis badly held back a chuckle as he handed out the menus.

Alfred barely glanced at the exquisite Italian cuisine listed on the menu before blurting out, "Peperoni pizza."

Francis looked at Alfred, his mouth slightly open in confusion. "Did you even look at the menu?"

"If I already know what I want then what's the point?" he spoke back.

Francis rolled his eyes at the teen. "You do realise that all of these as such fine dishes – even if most of them are drowned in tomato sauce." He said the last part in a low mutter before lowering his eyes back to scan the menu. "Do you know what you want, Matthew?"

"Eh? Hmm." Matthew had his face buried within the menu. "I guess I'll just have the same as Alfred," he eventually mumbled.

Francis sighed and took the boys menus from them. "Okay, then we'll just share one large pizza. How does that sound, boys?" He looked at the two boys who nodded.

Francis looked back towards the counter. Feliciano cheerfully laughed at something Ludwig had said just before straightening his tie. After taking one last gulp of his remaining coffee, Ludwig bent down to pick up his dark briefcase. He strolled out of the café; the bell rang throughout the place at his departure.

"Are you ready to order?"

Francis blinked up towards the waitress who had seemingly manifested from thin air. She was smiling down at the three with a note pad and pen at the ready. Alfred took a quick glance at the mini-skirt she wore before quickly turning away, embarrassed from doing so. The girl looked a lot like her twin Feliciano. The only real difference between the two was that she seemed like the manlier out of the two.

Francis leaned his elbow onto the table and gave her a sly half smile. "Why of course, miss."

She took the three laminated menus from the table and placed them under her arm. Francis gave her their order and she took one quick note of it. "I'll be right over with your order!"

She turned away and headed towards her brother a blissful spring in her step.

Arthur took a break from all the paper work which piled up on his desk. The sun's rays mercilessly shone on his back. The air was thick and humid, Arthur rolled up his shirt sleeves trying to cool himself down. The inside of the building was even worse, which is one of the main reasons he needed to get out into the fresh air. He looked up towards the sky at let the sun brighten down on his face. He wanted to feel something good for once. Both his home and work life were filled with misery and to feel the warmth on his face for a few seconds was just the kind of pickup he needed.

"Arthur," said a voice from behind him.

Regretfully, Arthur was crashed back into his miserable reality when Toris' voice drifted over to him. He whipped back to face a rather worried looking Toris.

"Yes, what is it?" Arthur couldn't help but hide the clear irritation lurking in his voice.

"There's a man in who's just come into the office," said Toris, rubbing the sweat from his brow. "He seems rather…upset."

A sigh automatically fell from Arthur's mouth. He followed his partner back into the office, his feet dragging across the floor as he did. The first thing Arthur noticed about the man was that he strangely wore a blue and white scarf across his neck. Arthur found the man's attire rather ridiculous considering the scorching weather outside. Clearly, 'upset' was an understatement of the man's feelings; he was almost fuming with rage.

"Get me someone who will listen, and take me seriously!" he yelled at the receptionist.

"Sir, please," muttered the receptionist nervously. "I'm afraid-"

"It's okay Cheryl," Arthur said, stepping towards the receptionist's desk. "I'll take over."

The receptionist nodded towards Arthur, clearly thankful that Arthur had taken away the cause of her stress. Arthur motioned for Toris to stay with the receptionist. He took the man away from the rather noisy main room and into his own personal office. The window was wide open and a slow rotating ceiling fan spun above their heads. Arthur gestured to the seat in front of the desk.

"Now, this detective agency really doesn't appreciate it when wankers such as yourself come into our office and start to harass reception." He took a seat at the corner of the desk and leaned towards the man.

The man was clearly more than a little pissed off but he tried his best at keeping a cool and calm demeanour. His arms were folded across his rather wide chest. Arthur's sharp eyes spotted worry behind his golden eyes. Arthur got up and skimmed through a file cabinet. He broke out a blank file and took it to the desk.

"Name?" he sat down across from the man and picked up a pen.

"Lars Van Dyk," he said, unfolding his arms and instead clasping his hands on his lap.

"Do you live in the area?" Arthur asked, starting to write in the blank form.

Lars nodded, feeling slightly more relieved than when he first walked in. Arthur scribbled down some other useless information which believed was purely created just to add more minutes doing paper work. He preferred to actually do detective work rather than sit at a desk and write down trivial things such as the exact time of doing said paper work.

"So what brings you to our office today?" He set down the pen.

"It's my sister, Emma. She's been gone since yesterday," he said, a worried line wrinkled his forehead.

"Are you sure she's not just staying with a friend?" he asked, raising his eyebrow.

"You sound just like that police officer I spoke to," his voice was dripping with resentment. "Look, I came to this agency because I thought you could take me seriously."

"And I am, however if she is just missing for a day then she may come back. In fact she may be home right now and you've missed her," Arthur didn't have time to deal with crazy family members.

"Look," Lars snapped harshly. "I know my sister. We've just moved to this city. She doesn't have any friends here and I'm the only family she has."

Arthur looked at the worried Lars. He stared at him for a long time, judging if taking on this case would be worth wild – it would certainly give him something better to do. He took up his pen and prepared himself to fill in the rest of the form.

"Give me her details and the events leading up to her disappearance."

If there was one thing certain about Alfred, it was the fact that the amount of junk food he could consume was unhuman. Matthew remember one time where Arthur had joked about who they adopted Alfred from, saying that it really was alien stomachs from another galaxy – around that same time Alfred started to wet the bed again.

"So did you enjoy lunch?" asked Francis when they were back in the car.

"I sure did!" said Alfred, putting a hand to his full belly. "Hey, Matthew you don't look so good." He slapped his hand to his hunched over brother. "Looks like you can't handle a good pizza!"

He loudly laughed at his brother's sickly green tinge.

"I can handle any pizza you can!" Matthew tried hard to yell, but it didn't go over his usual hushed tone.

"Whatever you say, bro," Alfred let out a loud laugh, to which Matthew started to hit him on the shoulder repeatedly.

Francis let his smile slip onto his face as he watched the two boys from the mirror. Just watching them gradually start to act like their old selves again made a strong sense of joy fill his stomach. Or perhaps it was the pizza coming back to haunt him. It was then he realised how much he missed spending time with the two of them. Due to the stress of his divorce, moving into a new apartment and his own job, spending any sort of time with the boys was limited. However, his happy and upbeat feeling soon dissolved when he remembered exactly where he was driving to.

It had been a while since Francis and Arthur were even in the same room. While the two tried to keep away there angry feelings in front of the twins but that still didn't stop the sense of dread inside Francis' stomach.

They pulled into the small parking lot across from the detective agency where Arthur worked. When the two first got together, Francis used to tease him about his little crime novels and how Arthur could never be as great as the detectives in them. However, Arthur was ambitious and soon rose up in the five years he had been with the agency. Francis remembered how proud he was of him. A sad smile rose on his face which he quickly shook away.

The twins walked ahead of him and into the building. Arthur was out at the front desk shaking his hands with a tall man.

"Don't worry," muttered Arthur. "I'll be in touch shortly."

The man left taking a quick glance at the two boys. The twins couldn't help but feel intimidated as his large shadow casted over them.

"Boys!" exclaimed Arthur, his arms open wide.

The twins ran to their father, enthusiastic about getting away from the tall daunting man.

"I didn't expect the two of you here so soon," he said. Matthew noticed that his father's mood had significantly increased since earlier that morning. His happy smiley face soon dropped when Francis came into Arthur's eye sight.

"Am I too early?" Francis asked, awkwardly standing with one hand on his hip.

Arthur checked his watch. It was just after one o'clock and Arthur had hoped to get out the office for a while. He got quite a lot of information thanks to Lars about the missing girl. He wanted to do some actual work instead of the mountaining paper work on his desk.

"Actually, could you take the boys for a little longer?" asked Arthur.

"Oh," Francis folded his arms and stared Arthur down. "What if I have plans?"

"Do you?" asked Arthur.

"Well, no but-" Francis stuttered.

Matthew stood in between the two sensing an argument bubbling between the two adults. "Can you guys-"

Alfred grabbed his brother's arm and yanked him back to his side. He shook his head at his brother giving him a look which said 'it's pointless'.

"Well if you don't have any plans can you just take them for an hour or so?" asked Alfred, harshly.

"You sound as if your work is more important," Francis scoffed. "Typical."

"This is important," snapped Arthur.

Toris noticed the two men talking rather loudly and went to stand by his partner's children. In the years he had been friends with Arthur, he had seen how bad the arguments between the exes could be and didn't want the teenagers to see them.

"Hey." He fished into his pocket and brought out some change. "Why don't you guys go get something out of the vending machine?" said the smiling Lithuanian.

Alfred took the change. "Sure thing." He tugged at his brother's sleeve. "C'mon Matthew."

Matthew was conflicted; he wanted to stay and try to stop his parents bickering but at the same time he knew that stopping them would be almost an impossibility. He allowed Alfred to lead him away from the men and towards the machines at the far side of the room.

"You always make any excuse you can get," Francis gritted his teeth. "It's getting old, Arthur. Aren't your own children important?"

"Don't you even dare say such a thing!" bellowed Arthur, taking a step forward towards his former husband. "You know how much I love those boys."

Francis scoffed a laugh. "You have a strange way of showing it."

"What about you? Don't you want to spend time with them?" Arthur retaliated. "These past few weeks you've barely given them so much as a second glance."

"I'm sorry. I've been a little busy with things such as moving out of my own home!"

"A home you helped break!"

"Because of you!"

Toris could feel the two reaching boiling point and felt that he had to step in. "Now, don't you two think you're being a bit harsh."

The two men looked towards the nervous Toris, rage burning in both their eyes. Toris could feel their rage being aimed at him and a sweat started to break out on his skin.

"Don't even try to get involved you twit!" barked Arthur.

"This isn't any of your business!" Francis yelled.

The two turned their anger on full blast and started to yell at the poor meek Toris. At first Toris tried to explain he merely wanted to help but his cries were overshadowed by the yelling men. They yelled at him, cursed at him and accidently spat at him with their harsh words. Eventually their rage dwindled and Francis turned back to Arthur, a tired look in his eyes.

"Fine! The boys will stay at mine tonight; pick them up first thing in the morning." He turned away dramatically. "Alfred, Matthew!"

The two boys held cans of soda in their slightly shaking hands. Quickly, they scurried to Arthur and gave him a joint hug before jogging slightly to Francis as he left the office.

There was a silence throughout the office. Arthur could feel the eyes of his colleague's burn into his back. He turned around, his menacing eyebrows knitted together. He turned his body and looked at them all. "What are you all staring at? Don't you have work to do?" With his good mood completely gone he marched back into his officer and prepared to leave.

_**Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading.**_

_**Edit 19/06/16: Few words changed and dialogue changed because it didn't make sense. In my first chapter edit I mentioned that I wouldn't update until I finished editing but that shouldn't take more than perhaps a day or I may finish everything on this date. I am only one person however as I do not have a beta reader and I know that my updates are pretty few and far in between. If any new readers are reading this then watch out for that.**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Smashed Vases**

"Do you really feel up to investigating right now?" asked Toris, as they drove from the parking lot. "I mean that was pretty tense back there." A sense of glum filled Toris as he remembered the two turning on him.

"I do apologise for that, Toris," Arthur mumbled. "Even when we were together we always just seemed to bicker and fight and…"

Arthur trailed off when he spotted a small photograph stuck to the dash board. He recognised the blonde haired woman as Toris' wife. He had only met her a few times. Arthur remembered her as being very caring, almost like a big sister. Racking his brain, Arthur searched for the woman's name before talking once again.

"I'm sorry. I must seem so ungrateful," he mumbled. "I doubt you and Felicja argued much. I remember that one time you brought me and Francis over for dinner. The way she looked at you was just amazing."

Toris stopped at a red light and glanced over to his partner, a curious look in his eyes.

"I remember thinking about how badly I wanted Francis to look at me like that," Arthur commented. "It was as if only her eyes belonged to you. Like…if she glanced away from you for a second that she'd lose you and she seemed unwilling to take that chance."

Toris felt a blush rise to his face and a small lump form in his throat. He swallowed the bitterly sorrowful tasting lump and spoke up just before the light hit amber.

"We argued once…just before she…" he stopped and moved along with the traffic. "It was over something so silly that I can't even remember it. She ran off and the next thing I know the phone rings."

Sympathetically, Arthur put his hand on his friends shoulder, seeing how hard relaying this story was for him. "I know, Toris. It's hardly even been a year so this must still feel fresh in your mind."

Toris let out a steady sigh. "Next month will be the anniversary. Would you mind coming with me to her grave? I'd just prefer some company."

Arthur nodded with a small smile. "I shall," he said.

Toris quickly changed topics as back to the investigation. "So her brother says she went to get some groceries and just…never came back?"

"Pretty much," Arthur muttered. "He said the trip shouldn't have taken more than ten minutes but it's been almost a day and still no word of her."

"What time did she leave?" asked Toris.

"Late afternoon," he said. "Pull up here; we'll walk the rest of the way."

Toris parked his car below a large block of city apartments. The two of them got out of the car and began discussing what Lars had told Arthur. According to Lars his sister was rather bold and did have a habit of exploring stores. However, on that day they had run out of waffles and the girl was desperate for some. The small stroll to the store shouldn't have taken long at all. After an hour Lars became very worried and started to look for her. He himself didn't know his way around so couldn't find the store she had gone to. Desperation sank into Lars and he began wandering the street asking everyone if they had seen his sister. Lars had given a photo of the girl to Arthur. She was pretty, beautiful even. Her hair was a dark dusty blonde and she wore a green band in her hair.

The two detectives had gone into around seven stores until they made a breakthrough. On the eighth store the man by the counter recalled seeing the woman, however he stated that she didn't buy anything.

"She asked for proper Belgian waffles, said the ones we offered weren't up to 'her standards'." He made air-quotes with his fingers. "So she just left."

Arthur crossed his arms. "Do you have security footage that we could look at?"

The man nodded at took them to a back room filled with security videos. He left them alone with the footage and went back to tend to his store. The two partners combed through the last days video. Eventually they found the girl. It was just as the cashier had said; she went in, talked to the cashier and left. Once the video ended Arthur threw back his head and let out a deep groan in annoyance.

"We've been here for half an hour and this was all we got!" he snapped. "For bloody hells sake. What about you Toris?" he asked his companion, who was looking through the outside footage on another computer. "Please tell me you have something?"

"All I can tell you is that she went to the left. Other than that I'm sorry, Arthur," he tried to give his partner a half smile.

"At least it's better than nothing," he grumbled, standing up and pulling his blazer back on. "Let's go, no use staying here any longer."

Alfred was scared that his father's head was about to explode. He was bright red with sheer fury. Matthew tried to calm him down when they were in the car but Francis just snapped at him. Matthew slunk back in the seat, clearly rather upset at being yelled at.

Matthew was never yelled at, thought Alfred. Out of the twins, Matthew was the good one, the golden child. While Alfred was the loud, annoying, trouble-maker. However, recent events had made Alfred tone down his rather childish attitude.

Francis kept muttering to himself. He hated that stupid British moron. He wished that he could somehow travel back in time so he could stop himself from going into that bar. His mind travelled back and wondered how differently his life would have been without Arthur. For starters, without the stress Arthur put him through, significantly less greying hairs would have sprouted from his head. Francis thought that if he didn't get together with Arthur that at that very moment he would have been out having fun. He imagined himself at some fancy restaurant instead of driving his two boys-

That's when he stopped. It was Arthur's idea to adopt the boys, without him he wouldn't have had two amazing children. As he drove along the busy streets Francis remembered when Alfred was brought home. It had been a long and gruelling process – which at the time they were still going through with Matthew, who was stuck in Canada – but in end the whole thing, was worth it. Six months later they got Matthew and the four became a quaint little family for many years.

Francis had been married to Arthur for almost twenty years. He found it baffling that twenty years of his life was just wasted away with the signing of a form.

Francis finally pulled back into his apartment building parking lot. He pulled up into his usual spot and turned off the engine. Before he undid the locks on the doors he turned back to face his two boys.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you Matthew," he sighed. "I was just angry and needed to take it out on someone, it was wrong of me."

Matthew kept his head down and nodded slightly. "Its fine, papa."

"I doubt me and your father will be on good terms for a while," he said. "So I suggest you try and get used to the fact that we won't be talking to each other very much."

Alfred looked out the window. He was in two minds about what to say, eventually he blurted it out. "None of this would have happened if it wasn't for that woman."

Francis' face dropped. Alfred was right; the whole divorce was his fault. If he hadn't slept with the first girl he spotted at that bar then his family would still be together.

Alfred had expected his father to yell at him for even mentioning that, but he never did. Instead Francis opened the car doors and the three of them walked in silence up towards Francis' apartment. The building was relatively new, light chocolate walls with a white outline stretched along the interior. It looked more like a fancy hotel rather than an apartment building.

Francis clicked his key into the door of his apartment and started to open it. A sudden force caused the door to slam shut again.

"Don't come in!" yelled the cause of the force. "The house is not up to my awesome standard!"

"Gilbert?" Francis took a second to process the information suddenly thrusted to him. "Wait…you're still not done! Sacré bleu! I gave you two all morning!" He struggled to open the door. "Let me in you idiots!"

"Not with that attitude," said Gilbert, slightly giggling on the other side of the door.

Francis jerked his head towards the twins, gesturing them to help him with the door. Alfred crouched down and pushed the bottom half of the door while Matthew focused on the top half. They pushed against Gilberts force and were able to force enough room for Francis to push half his body in the door.

"For goodness sake, mon ami!" he yelled, clearly in pain from the door. "Let me into my own home!"

"But we're not done!" said another Spanish voice, as another pair of hands began to press against the door.

"This is crazy," said Alfred, using his shoulder to keep the door from snapping his father in half. "Ugh."

"If one of my neighbours sees us they're going to freak out!" Francis was able to wiggle a little more of his body through the door. "Now for the last time. Laissez-moi entrer!"

Like a cork from a champagne bottle, Francis popped himself through the door and into his own home. Francis managed to remain steady on his feet and merely shuffled awkwardly through the door. Matthew fell through the air but was caught by Gilbert. Alfred wasn't so lucky, since he was doing most of the heavy work he crashed onto his back with a loud thud. The thud made the flooring vibrate slightly, causing Francis to turn around and check the boy over.

"Sacré bleu! Alfred, are you alright?" he asked, helping the boy to his feet.

"Yeah," he said, rubbing his spine. "Nothing major!"

"You two dumbasses!" he marched over to his two friends, who were awkwardly standing a few paces from the door. With a swift movement from his arms, Francis smacked both of their ears hard. The slap triggered them to jerk sideways and knock their heads together.

"Ay!" winched Antonio, clutching his left ear. "Eso duele, mi amigo. We was only making sure this place was perfect before your arrival. Was hitting us necessary?"

"Was locking me out of my own home necessary?" barked Francis.

"Well maybe not…" Antonio looked away, a small grin on his face.

Francis rubbed his forehead and let out the biggest puff of air stored in his lungs. "I'm surrounded by idiots!"

"Aw, don't be like that Francis!" A long and muscular arm went around Francis' neck. He almost suffocated due to Gilbert's strength. "At least we got most of the work done!"

Francis stopped and was finally able to take a look at his decorated apartment. The place seemed completely transformed from that morning. So many things had been added to the rather large house. The furniture was laid out neatly, curtains were elegantly hung down from the wall and there were all sorts of little ornaments arranged throughout the room. Francis' knew either Gilbert or Antonio had purchased them; since he never even thought about having such things in his home. A sudden wave of realisation hit Francis as he looked around the living room. He angled his head downward so as not to be seen.

"Excuse me, I'll be back momentarily." He pushed past his friends and headed straight for the bathroom.

Despite the fact that his apartment had suddenly been filled with expensive furniture and decorations, something was still missing. He hated to admit it, but he couldn't help but miss Arthur.

Around the time the boys were just going into school, Arthur had – for some reason – decided to take up pottery. Each time he tried to make a vase it ended up looking like a disfigured beast, who desperately begged for the sweet release of death. Francis recalled how Arthur once stayed up all night trying to perfect a single vase. After a large amount of clay, Arthur finally was able to produce a petite vase. After he was finally able to make one he began making more and more and more. Most of them Francis threw away, apart from four.

Francis turned on the tap and sprayed himself with water. The cooling water reminded him of that same rainy summer's day. The boys were starting to grow restless at having to stay inside for the duration of the day and Arthur had no idea how to entertain them. It was Francis who came up with the idea of actually painting the vases. They spent all day just painting those vases. Arthur actually mocked the idea as being stupid but soon got into the spirit of things.

He seemed to miss those vases the most. However, they were long gone now. Arthur had smashed them all up in a fit of rage just before their divorce. Francis recoiled when he remembered trying to stop Arthur. He ended up hitting him. His knuckles clenched at the memory of colliding with Arthurs face.

Francis hated himself. He hated his apartment. He hated the elaborate decorations. He hated everything.

Eventually Francis emerged from the bathroom to see the twins helping their father's best friends to do the finishing touches. The light in the living room still had no shade on it. So instead of using step ladders, Alfred decided to sit on Matthew's shoulder while he hoisted him skywards.

"Can you hurry up, please?" asked Matthew, clearly struggling to keep Alfred upright.

"Just a little bit longer, dude," Alfred said, trying to click the purple shade into place.

"You really need to lay off the burgers," muttered Matthew.

The shade popped into place with the light just as Matthew's insult processed through Alfred's head. "Hey!"

Too quickly, he jerked back. The sudden swift movement made Matthew's feet slide from under him. Gilbert was right behind them and tried to save the two boys but ended up being crushed underneath them instead.

Francis watched the comical incident. He couldn't help but laugh at how insane they looked laying on the floor.

It didn't matter if Francis hated himself, because his boys didn't. Seeing them act like fools reminded him of that. While he had lost Arthur, he still had the twins.

_**Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading.**_

_**A/N:**_

_**Just to clear up any confusion, Felicja is a fan name – I think – of fem!Poland. I will be using some of the fems, I've already used fem!Italy – who has the fan name Alice. I'll add a note whenever I use one just to clarify.**_

_**Edit 19/06/16: Nothing much just some grammar and wording errors. Last edit for this date.**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Good Night and Sweet Dreams**

The sky started to turn a deep shade of blue when Arthur finally returned home. Home was actually the last place he wanted to be. The only reason he went there was because Toris had finally forced him to leave the office. It was eerily empty. His house was normally so noisy that no one could hear their own thoughts. Arthur found the silence unbearable.

It had been over twenty years since he had been alone. The feeling was strange, it was as if he had so much to do but didn't know where or when to start. He took about three paces into his house before finally settling on something. He walked back outside his house and got into his car. He drove to the nearest bar to him. The bar he came across was small but seemed friendly enough.

If there was one thing he missed about living in England it was definitely the pubs. The taverns where he lived seemed to be trying too hard to impress everyone – and he was never able to find a decent tasting pint anywhere.

He walked into the bar. One or two heads turned when he strolled over to the counter. Arthur decided to start drinking something light so he ordered just a simple beer. The bartender, with almost zero enthusiasm, handed over the chilled glass bottle to the Englishman.

"Cheers," Arthur muttered.

He tipped the bottle into his mouth and started to gulp down its contents. As he set the bottle back down; a young man sitting four stools down from him caught his eye. He recognized him – but from where? The man had rather dark brown hair with a single curl poking out from the side. He sat with his head in his chin, clearly looking bored. He took another swig of his beer as he tried to put a name to the man's – rather grumpy looking – face.

Arthur went back to his beer and watched out of the corner of his eye as another man joined the dark haired grumpy person. He recognised the other young man quickly. He drew his attention away from the two and bent his head down – hoping they wouldn't notice him. _Bollocks, Feliciano!_He thought, going back to his beer.

Arthur thought about how he could sneak past the two without being noticed, when a hand patted his shoulder. He froze up at the happy high pitched voice behind him. "Arthur! I thought that was you!"

Arthur used every ounce of his will trying not to yell out curse words. He turned around, a fake smile on his face.

"Oh, Feliciano, it's nice t-to see you," he stuttered, clutching his beer.

Arthur had hoped Feliciano wouldn't come up to him. He knew that years ago when he first met Feliciano that he scared him. Back then he had a very strong intimidating air about him which frightened the young Italian. Of course as the years went by he became less and less fearful of him but still kept his distance. Feliciano was just being polite.

Even though he was closer to Francis, that still didn't excuse what he did. Feliciano knew how much Arthur was hurting.

"I never would have expected you here," Feliciano said, with a bright smile. "Why don't you come join us?"

Arthur looked behind Feliciano towards his brother. The name Lovino rang loudly in his head when he saw him. Lovino looked annoyed, clearly he didn't want Arthur to join and Arthur couldn't blame him. He knew he wasn't exactly 'fun company'.

"I'm okay-" Arthur started.

Feliciano grabbed his arm and began to pull him out of his stool. "Don't be silly, you're joining us!"

Arthur suddenly missed the days when Feliciano would piss himself at the sight of him. The young man gestured him to the stool beside him. There were a few seconds of painful silence before Feliciano finally spoke up.

He rolled up his sleeve and glanced at his watch. "I invited Ludwig and Kiku too. Said they might come after some big corporate meeting. Whenever they talk business it goes right over my head." Feliciano moved his hand zooming above his hair.

At the mention of Kiku Arthur relaxed slightly. Back when Arthur first moved to this town when he was just a rebel young lad looking to make it big quick, he didn't have many friends. When he was wallowing in self-pity one night drunk as a skunk, a young Japanese man made sure he made it home safely. He was grateful for that man; goodness knows what could have happened since most of that night was a heavy blur to him.

Arthur swirled his beer around in its glass prison. Feliciano turned to his brother and began idly chatting away to him. His brother just replied back in grunts and foul language insults. Arthur looked up from his drink and towards the brothers. Something seemed missing to him.

"Say, why isn't your sister here too?" he asked.

"Oh, Alice?" said Feliciano. "She uh…what was it she said?" he turned to his older brother.

"Her exact words I believe were 'There's no way in hell I am going to that bar. Now leave me alone to sleep you idiot. And take that other idiot with you too.'" Lovino sighed. "So basically," he leaned back to look at Arthur. "I'm this bastard's babysitter for the night."

Arthur scoffed back a laugh and went back to nursing his beer.

"I don't understand why she has to be so rough," said Feliciano. "Hard to believe we're twins at times." He laughed, just as a small bell echoed through the bar.

The three turned to look at the door. A tall muscular man, accompanied by a smaller slimmer black haired man, entered the bar. Feliciano called out towards the two and they drew there attention to the counter. When their gaze reached Arthur he immediately turned his back, a hot flush rising on his face.

"I didn't expect to see you here Arthur," said Kiku, sitting on the stool next to him. "You seem well."

"I happened to bump into Feliciano here and he made me sit with him," Arthur said, in a rather grumpy manner.

Kiku let out a small giggle as the bartender went up to him. Ludwig stood in between Arthur and Feliciano, trying to get the bartenders attention also.

"Why didn't you get a table, Feliciano?" he muttered, irritated.

"It is becoming rather cramped here, isn't it?" Feliciano held onto his drink as he jumped off the stool. "There's a table at the back. We'll go get it."

He hooked his arm around his elder brother's and pulled him off of his stool. Lovino started cursing as he almost spilled his drink. Feliciano took no notice and just continued to drag Lovino towards the back of the bar where the empty table lay.

The bartender took Ludwig's order after giving Kiku his. "Aren't you coming, Arthur?" he asked the British man.

"Uh." A bashful reddish tint light up on Arthur's face. "Y-yes," he mumbled, looking down at his watch. "Just let me go outside for a second. Could you take this for me?"

He handed Kiku his beer and replied with a humble, "certainly."

Arthur walked outside the bar and out into the warm night. Letting out a sigh he, fished into his blazer pocket. He pulled out an unopened packet of cigarettes, freshly bought that morning. He hadn't touched them in over seven years. It was Alfred that got him to quit after much begging and pleading. However, recent circumstances made him go running to the toxic stick. Like an animal, he opened the packet and pulled one out. He lit it up and took in a long breath of the nicotine. He couched a little as blew out the smoke.

He giggled at the image of Alfred scolding him about smoking. Leaning back on a wall he continued to smoke the cigarette all the way down to the bud, before casually flicking it away. He urged for another one, his sudden crave for nicotine was unlike any hunger he had ever felt. So he allowed himself to smoke just one more. Half way through the door of the bar opened and out stepped Ludwig.

Arthur didn't really know Ludwig and was only introduced to him through Kiku. While he felt a small sense of dislike between himself and Ludwig the two were civil enough.

"Didn't know you smoked," he said, pulling out his own packet of cigarettes.

"I quit years ago," he mumbled, flicking extra ash away from the ember. "Seven year streak out the window."

"I don't blame you." Ludwig clicked on his lighter. "I saw Francis in the café today."

The sudden mention of that name made Arthur's hair stand on end. "Flirting with the waitress I guess?" he scoffed.

"I'm sorry things didn't work out for you two," Ludwig said, exhaling smoke. "How long were you two married for anyway?"

"Since I was nineteen," he muttered, letting out a chuckle.

"Nineteen? A bit young isn't it?" said Ludwig, with one raised eyebrow.

"I was a stupid little teenage 'musician'," he made air-quotes with his fingers, "Francis came along and quickly after we got together we just decided to get married – I believe we were both rather drunk."

"That fast? Feliciano told me you hated each other at first?" Ludwig questioned.

"We did," Arthur muttered. "Said my guitar playing was just pure noise and that the sound of screeching cats was more enjoyable to listen to." He sniggered. "Fucking twat."

"Your relationship is confusing to me," Ludwig was half way through his cigarette.

"Same here," Arthur muttered.

Ludwig took a final inhale of his cigarette before flicking it away. Arthur still stood with a few more puffs left.

"I'll see you back in there." Ludwig raised his hand as he retuned back into the bar.

Reminiscing of his strange marriage made him think of the twins. How long had it been since he had gone a night without them? He missed them dearly. Pulling out his phone, Arthur dialled Alfred's number and placed the sleek black brick towards his ear. A small lump clogging up his throat.

Since Francis only had two bedrooms in his apartment, Alfred and Matthew were forced to share a double bed – at least their room had a television in it.

Matthew was in the living room with Francis while Alfred sat in his shared bedroom, flicking through the movie channels, when his father called. He didn't take his eyes away from the TV and merely clicked 'answer' when his phone rang.

"Yo," he said, turning on an action movie.

"Alfred," said his dad on the other line.

"Oh, hey dad," Alfred turned down the volume of the TV. "What's all that noise in the background?"

Through the small device Alfred could hear loud chatter and faint music.

"It's nothing I just wanted to say goodnight to you and Matthew. Can you put him on the phone?" asked Arthur on the other line, his voice sounding weird.

Alfred agreed without much questioning and went out into the living room. Matthew was sitting beside Francis on the couch. The two were watching one of Francis' old movies. Alfred never saw the appeal in those movies, nothing excited ever happened and all the characters seemed to do was talk.

Alfred held the phone towards Matthew.

"Who is it?" Matthew asked, moving his hand towards the phone.

Alfred looked towards Francis, who hadn't looked away from the TV, "its dad," Alfred said, putting the phone in his twin's hand.

Matthew pressed the phone to his cheek and stood up from the couch. Alfred followed his brother back into their bedroom.

"Dad?" Matthew said into the phone.

"Hey, Matthew. Just called to say goodnight." Arthur took in a deep breath. "I miss you two."

Matthew swallowed. "We miss you too, dad," he said softly.

"Are you having a good time at your fathers?"

"We're just watching movies, Alfred has been in the room mostly," Matthew said, while Alfred stuck his tongue out at him.

"Good…good…that's," a small sigh came from the phone. "That's good son. Put your brother back on the phone. Oh, g-goodnight, Matthew."

"Night, dad," Matthew said back to his father before handing Alfred his mobile.

Matthew exited the room and went back to sit with Francis. The credits were rolling and he made a groaning sound knowing he missed the ending. Francis picked up the remote.

"Do you want me to rewind it?" he asked, wiggling the remote in his hand.

"No its fine. Was the ending good?" he asked, sitting down.

"Yes, it was a happy ending."

Francis put his hand on Matthew's sleek soft hair. As soon as the dirty golden locks tickled his palm Francis was washed over by a wave of nostalgia. It was as if he was a little toddler again, clutching his stuffed polar bear toy for safety.

Alfred poked his head out the room door. "Yo, I'm heading to bed. Hurry up Matt, that way you don't wake me up when your fat ass tries to crawl into bed."

Matthew stood up his face red with rage. "My fat ass! You're the one who eats nothing but big macs!"

The two went into their room throwing insults at each other. Francis smiled at his boy's silliness before yelling at them, "bonne nuit!"

"Good night, papa!" the two boys yelled back in harmony.

**_A/N:_**

**_I was so close to calling this chapter 'Pun and Go' – since that is my favourite character song and since I felt that this whole thing was a weird pun – I'm terrible at jokes_**

**_Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading/reviewing._**

**_Edit 22/06/2016: Editing is taking slightly longer than I would have liked, slowly but surely I'll get it done. I edited some of the dialogue and changed a few words._**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Switched**

Arthur actually had more fun than he first thought by going to that bar. At first, he only went there so the alcohol could dull his memory and perhaps he could start to feel normal again. The two Italian brothers went over to a pool table leaving Arthur with Kiku and Ludwig. As they chatted about random things, Ludwig's eyes went towards the two brothers.

"Has either one of you actually seen those two drunk?" he asked, lowering his voice slightly.

"Aren't they always drunk?" asked Arthur, sipping away at his third beer.

"I mean_ really_ drunk," Ludwig explained. "They actually have very high tolerances for alcohol – I guess it's because they are Italians. They've already drank double what we have; yet they seem in unaffected – if not just a little tipsy."

"Come to think of it," Kiku sat back in his chair and looked towards the brothers. "I've not seen them drunk either."

"I'm curious now," said Ludwig, his elbows on the table. "I feel like we should make it our mission tonight to actually see these two completely drunk."

Arthur raised one eyebrow. "Won't that take a while – you said so yourself they have a high alcohol tolerance. If we try to keep up with them we could miss the whole thing."

"Then we'll just take our drinks slowly," said Kiku. "Perhaps you should limit yourself, Arthur. I know how you can be."

"I'm not that bad!" Arthur yelled, more loudly than he intended to which made Kiku and Ludwig chuckle.

Arthur pulled down at his tie, loosening it. He held his beer loosely in his hand while it balanced on his lap. He checked his phone wondering what the time was. It was just after eleven. The brothers came back from playing their game. Lovino was in a sour mood after having lost to his younger brother.

"Aw, c'mon Lovino!" Feliciano said, hooking his arm around Lovino. "Its not my fault you can't put balls into sacks."

"I hate you so much!" he kicked his brother's leg under the table.

Feliciano jerked his leg upwards at the pain of his shin and ended up slamming his knee into the table. Arthur couldn't help but laugh along with Ludwig and Kiku. Still laughing Ludwig got out of his chair and gestured for Feliciano to follow him.

"Let's go get another round before you hurt yourself even more," he muttered.

Feliciano nodded, while whining about his leg.

The two left the table and Kiku turned towards Arthur. "So how are your boys? Sakura has been telling me that they haven't been to school in a while."

Arthur rolled the name Sakura in his head for a while before finally remembering her. It was Kiku's teenage sister, who also happened to be Matthew and Alfred's classmate – not that they spoke about her much.

"Francis moving was just far too hard on them," he took a sip of his beer. "I'm actually surprised. Matthew took it rather well but Alfred." Arthur sighed. "I never know what's going on in that boys head."

"Teenagers," said Kiku, trying to sound empathetic. "I guess."

Arthur laughed. "How is your little sister? How long has she lived with you now?"

Kiku looked to the side, trying to remember the answer to Arthur's question. "A year and a half now I believe. She really loves the western side of the world." Kiku gulped his own drink.

Ludwig came back to the table with another round of drinks. He turned back and everyone noticed Feliciano wasn't with him. A quick scan of the room and he was found talking with a group of young attractive girl. After one brief sigh, Ludwig called him back. Feliciano came skittering back at Ludwig's rather loud voice, saying quick, I'm sorry's.

The five men sat down and proceed to drink their alcohol without much disturbance. Arthur tried his best to keep up with them but decided to merely hold the beer in his hand and pretended to drink it. A light dizzy feeling was swirling in his head and he didn't want to get extremely drunk. His stomach turned when Feliciano suggested they do shots at the bar. Of course, Arthur politely declined as did Kiku. Feliciano dragged his brother along with Ludwig up towards the bar.

"Why am I stuck with this idiot and the potato loving cock sucker," spat Lovino as he was dragged away.

Kiku put his elbows on the table and buried his face in his hand. "I don't think I can make it, Arthur." He looked up, a slightly redden glow flushed on his cheeks. "Those three are strange creatures."

Arthur tried to shake the dizziness from his head. "I know what you mean, it's a good thing I don't have work tomorrow." He chuckled.

At the bar a crowd had gathered of other men and women who decided to join in on taking shots. Arthur and Kiku watched as people yelled excitedly. Kiku and Arthur stopped drinking their own alcohol trying to stay as sober as possible. After almost half an hour of shot taking a sudden smash caused them to stop. Arthur and Kiku looked back to see Lovino holding back Feliciano who was yelling curse words at an innocent by stander. Ludwig ushered back the Italian brothers to the table, a worried look on his face.

The two sat down with weird looks on their faces. Lovino seemed to have a bright grin stretched across his cheek while Feliciano looked as if he was about to murder everyone in that bar. A strange tension rose at the table. Arthur almost didn't want to breathe in fear he released whatever anger Feliciano seemed to be brewing.

"Feliciano, are you alright?" Kiku went to put his hand on his friend's shoulder but Feliciano hurtfully batted it away.

"Don't touch me!" he snapped.

Ludwig groaned a tired look in his eyes. "I believe it's safe to say mission accomplished."

"Yes, you've broken them," said Arthur, laughing.

"What are you laughing at anyway you and your shit eyebrows," Feliciano hissed while Arthur's hand flew up to his rather unkempt eyebrows. "They're like shit coloured caterpillars."

"Don't you think you're being a bit harsh, Feli," said Lovino, in a rather softer, more excitable voice.

"Oh, fuck you, you jerk!" Feliciano tripped over his words and almost fell onto his brother.

Arthur looked down at his watch. It was nearing two am and the bar was starting to die down. Arthur's own eyes were beginning to blur like crazy with alcohol and slight sleep deprivation.

"Perhaps we should just get home before things get ugly," Ludwig suggested, pulling on his own blazer.

Kiku and Arthur nodded in agreement of Ludwig. Since Feliciano was suddenly the more violent of the two both Kiku and Ludwig hoisted him to his feet and out the bar. Leaving Arthur in charge of Lovino. Lovino still had most control over his leg, which meant that Arthur only had to guide him slightly out the door.

Once outside Arthur turned to Lovino. "How are we all going to fit in a taxi?"

Lovino started to laugh slightly. "Ach, don't worry, amico! My friend lives just in that building there – I'll go crash at his."

Lovino stumbled to get his phone out of his pocket. Eventually he managed the task and dialled his friend's number. He walked a little bit away from the group but his voice could still be loudly heard.

"Antonio! Baby!"

Kiku looked towards the piss-drunk Lovino, his face scrunched up in confusion. "I thought he hated Antonio?"

Ludwig struggled to keep Feliciano under control. The previously cheery Feliciano was now cursing every swear word under the sun at his large German friend, his hands balled up into fists. When Ludwig tried to restrain Feliciano, the Italian swung his hand and his fist collided with Ludwig's chin.

"Call a damn cab!" Ludwig yelled, pulling Feliciano's hand behind his back.

Arthur reached into his pocket and fumbled with the sleek gadget. Half way through dialling a taxi company he dropped his phone and accidentally called a wrong number. A strange foreign voice answered and he quickly hung up.

"Would you please hurry up!" Ludwig was having his will shortened by Feliciano's constant angry yelling.

"Bugger, I'm trying!" Arthur said, panicking. The alcohol in his system made his vision blurry and pushing a button on a digital keypad seemed like an impossible task.

A miracle happened where Arthur finally was able to call for a taxi. He gave the address of the bar then the receptionist on the other end informed him a car should arrive shortly.

Lovino was still on the phone talking loudly to Antonio. He seemed to be having trouble convincing him to let him stay the night.

"Don't be so mean!" Lovino yelled, giggling loudly.

Arthur stopped eavesdropping in on Lovino's phone call as Feliciano started to yell again, this time his anger was towards Arthur.

"I mean really, fucking look at them!" Feliciano was still being restrained by Ludwig.

"Can you please leave my eyebrows alone," said Arthur, getting more and more irritated.

Kiku was trying his best to calm Feliciano down. Of course it wasn't working, the only thing stopping Feliciano from attacking everyone was Ludwig and his tree trunks for arms. It was strange seeing the Italian brother's act so differently now that they were drunk. Almost as if the two had completely swapped bodies.

Lovino joined the group for a final goodbye. He had managed to convince Antonio to let him stay, he seemed far too cheery about going there.

"Are you sure you'll be able to make it all the way there alone?" asked Kiku, a wrinkle of concern scrunched up on his forehead. "One of us should walk you-"

Lovino put up his hand in protest. His feet struggled to keep himself up and he was swaying in every direction. "Its fine, its fine," he cooed. "The apartment is just over there." He started to walk backwards while pointing, his words slurred in his mouth. "Enjoy the rest of your night."

He stumbled away down the road and was soon out of sight. Even after they could no longer see him his rather happy singing voice was heard long after he had departed from the group.

Not long after Lovino left a yellow taxi showed up outside the bar. Arthur slid into the front passenger seat leaving the others to sit in the back. Kiku and Ludwig sat beside Feliciano, who was still muttering insults at Ludwig.

"If he throws up in my car you gotta pay for it," said the cab driver, clearly annoyed.

"Don't worry he won't," assured Ludwig.

The driver asked for the address and Kiku gave his first – since he was closer to the bar than the others. The driver nodded and proceed to speed down the roads.

"You know both you and your brother sound like morons. What with your ja's and your stupid accents," said Feliciano, slumped over Kiku.

"What does my brother have to do with this?" asked Ludwig, his patients with the Italian growing thinner and thinner.

Feliciano lifted his head turned towards Ludwig. His eyes had a strange fire in them as he scanned the large Germans face. For what seemed like an age he just stared right back at Ludwig. Clearly uncomfortable Ludwig shifted in his seat. Feliciano's resolve slowly started to fade as his body seemed to go limper, but he kept his eyes firmly on Ludwig.

Finally he said, "You look like him."

Ludwig knitted his eyebrows together in confusion. "You mean Gilbert? Of course I do, he's my older-"

Feliciano cut him off. "Not him, the other one." His eyes were slowly blinking and the sternness in Feliciano's voice started to soften.

"Who are you talking about Feliciano?" Ludwig said, with a deep sigh hanging on his words.

"Ga-"

Feliciano could no longer keep his eyes open and his body fell slowly onto Ludwig. Ludwig caught him and steadied his friends head on his shoulder. A soft snore tip toed out of the Italian's mouth as he lay on Ludwig's large shoulder, fast asleep.

"I'm going to kill him when he sobers up," said Ludwig, a strangely stern yet soft sound in his voice and a restrained smile on his lips and he watched the sleeping Italian.

**_A/N:_**

**_After searching online for a day or two I found out that a popular head cannon was that whenever the Italy brothers get drunk they switch personalities. Romano becomes more happy and upbeat while Italy turns bitter and violent. I thought the idea was funny and my sister gave me the idea of this scene so I used it._**

**_Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading/reviewing._**

**_Edit 22/06/16: If I'm being honest this is my least favourite chapter, it's pretty much filler and going back and editing it all wasn't very fun. I thought about taking it out completely but I thought that would ruin the flow a little bit. Only grammar was edited here anyway._**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Drunkness**

Arthur barely remembered how he got home. It was all rather hazy to him. However, some how he was able to make it to his house and get into bed. It was around five in the morning when he woke up in a cold sweat. It was another nightmare about the boys. They were suffocating in those body bags with Arthur trying so hard to get them out.

"Fran-" Arthur shot up.

He reached over to the other side of the bed. His hand hovered over the empty space – Francis' space. For a while he just stared at the empty bed, slightly swaying as the alcohol was still in his system. Finally, with a dark frown on his face, he whipped the sheets off of his body and marched downstairs. With shaky hands he grabbed the packet of cigarettes which were lying on the kitchen counter. He took an old small bowl from inside one of the cupboards and used it as a substitute ashtray. He inhaled the first cigarette within seconds and swiftly moved to another. They weren't helping at all and so he went to the fridge, a third cigarette nestled between his fingers.

Many wine bottles were elegantly placed in the bottom of the fridge. He grabbed the first one his hand touched. After popping the cork he chugged down the clear liquid, hoping that his nightmare would soon be forgotten.

* * *

Francis stood in his kitchen, staring up at the clock. It was past noon and Arthur still hadn't picked up the twins. Alfred tried calling him but every time he never answered. Francis folded his arms across his chest and began drumming his fingers on his forearm.

"Alfred!" he called for his child, who soon came into the kitchen.

"Yeah, pops?" he asked, pushing up his glasses.

"Try your father again," Francis said, more than a little irritated.

"I just did like a second ago." Alfred took out his phone. "He's not gonna answer."

Matthew wandered into the kitchen. "Do you think something's wrong?" he asked, a worried frown on his face.

Francis scoffed a sigh. "He's most likely still in bed."

"Either way, we still need to get home," Matthew said. "Can't you just drive us there, papa?"

Francis pinched the bridge of his nose. Something was off to him, Arthur was never usually late. Sure once or twice he perhaps lost track of time and showed up ten minutes later but not hours. For Arthur, this was out of character and it worried Francis – not that he would ever admit it.

"Let's go." He patted his pocket, checking for his keys, and motioned the twins to follow him.

They walked down into the apartment parking lot with swift steps. Alfred called 'shot gun' and jumped into the front passenger seat. Matthew sat in the back seat still trying to call his father.

"Do you think something's happened to him?" he said, when no one answered.

"I'm sure he's fine," said Francis, clearly unsure. "He's most likely just drowning in paper work. You know what he's like."

Francis drove his way out of the parking lot and towards his old home. The whole drive there they sat in silence, with Alfred occasionally turning the radio on and off. Within just over thirty minutes they reached the house. Francis found it strange that Arthur's car wasn't in the drive way, but there was no reason for him to be out anywhere.

Alfred always forgot his house keys so it was up to Matthew to unlock the front door. A little too eagerly, Francis went in first and told the twins to stay in the living room while he checked the house. Matthew was going to protest his father's command but seeing the stern look on his face made him comply.

Once the twins were settled watching television in the living room, Francis went into the kitchen. The lingering aroma of toxic smoke tickled at his nostrils. An empty packet of cigarettes lay on the counter, with an old bowl stuffed filled with ash and buds. A sense of disappointment hit Francis' stomach. He remembered how hard it was for Arthur to give up the harmful habit and knew that if the twins saw the empty packet they'd surely be even more upset. He grabbed the packet along with the ash filled bowl and disposed of them in the silver bin. Just as he dropped the bowl a thud caused him to look up. Directly above from the kitchen was the master bedroom.

Hoping the twins hadn't heard the same sudden noise, he raced upstairs and stood at the door of his old bedroom. His hand hovered above the handle, he felt like an intruder standing in the home he used to live in. Even though he once shared the bedroom with Arthur he hesitated – at first – to go inside. Taking in one deep quick sigh, he pushed away such feelings and forced his way into the bedroom.

The first thing that hit him was the strong smell of wine. Many empty bottles cluttered the floor and Francis had to watch his step. When he opened the door a large bottle went across the room, luckily it stopped rolling and didn't smash when it reached the wall.

Francis' eyes wandered up from the floor and towards the bed. Before he left, the bed always was decorated with pillows and little stuffed animals. Francis did it purely for fun, Arthur always mocked the idea when they were married but he allowed it nevertheless. The bedroom itself was all decorated by Francis. The walls were a deep purple colour, the bedding normally was a hot scarlet shade, and the furniture in the room looked extremely extravagant. All that had been done away with thanks to Arthur. Instead of the bright colours which adorned the room, a dull saddening beige colour pallet filled it.

Francis stood still as he watched Arthur, his shirt half creased and half open, taking gulps from a bottle. Arthur turned towards the door, his face bright red, as he dropped the bottle. It landed on the floor with a hard thud but the bottle didn't break, wine spilled from the glass and stained the flooring. Fire lit up in his eyes as he noticed Francis.

Slowly, Francis closed the door, not wanting the twins to hear.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he hissed at his ex-partner.

"Whas it look like," Arthur said, his voice completely slurred.

Francis scrunched up his nose as the smell of alcohol burned into his nostrils. "God you're piss drunk."

Arthur stumbled up off the bed. He couldn't keep himself up right and his legs gave way, slowly he started to fall to the ground. Francis sprang into action and went to catch his former lover. Messily, he was able to steady Arthur, which was met by a negative response.

"Don't fucking touch me!" Arthur slurred, moving a closed fist towards Francis.

Since Arthur's movements were so slow and sloppy, Francis easily was able to move to the side and away from Arthur's punches. Arthur's fist kept traveling through the air. Tripping over nothing, he grabbed onto the first thing he could for support. Francis felt a tug at his shirt and the two crashed down onto the floor.

Arthur was faced down on the floor, his body no longer able to fully keep itself up. Francis pushed himself up on his knees and looked down at the Brit.

"Why did you do this?" he hissed. "The twins were worried sick!"

Arthur closed his eyes tightly; the thought of the twins seeing him like this stung his eyes. He didn't mean to drink so much; the only thing he wanted was a way to make his pain dull. It wasn't until Francis showed his face that he realised that the sun had even come up.

Francis was now staring intently at Arthur. The fall had caused Arthur's shirt to fall over his shoulder slightly. He found himself hypnotically transfixed to the exposed flesh. A strong sudden urge rose up inside of his stomach; he desperately wanted to touch him. He wanted to feel what Arthur's bare skin felt like. How long had it been since he was able to casually touch Arthur? Every single nerve in his body worked itself to breaking point stopping Francis', almost uncontrollable, impulse.

"Why did you do it?" Arthur said, his voice muffled by the floor.

Francis was taken aback slightly; a reddening blush bloomed on his cheek. He shook his head trying to rid said blush before speaking. "What are you talking about? Would you get up, you look pathetic just laying there. Drunker than a homeless man." He spat out the last part before standing up.

Arthur laid - his face pressed hard against the floor - for several moments. He heard Francis walk around the room, there was a clanking sound which Arthur guessed to be Francis picking up the empty bottles.

"Go in for a shower too. You reek of cigarette!"

Arthur pushed himself upwards and steadied his back against the bed frame. Alcohol still swirled through his system deeply but the sudden shock of Francis' presence made his head faintly clearer. He rolled his head to watch Francis patter around the room, picking up Arthur's mess.

"Why aren't you answering my question?" Arthur's tongue felt like rubber, he feared that it would suddenly fall from his mouth if he wasn't careful.

"I haven't the slightest idea as to what you are talking about!" Francis tried to lower his voice so the twins couldn't hear him.

"You know…you know bloody damn well what I'm on about!" Arthur threw his arms lazily on the bed.

Francis sighed as he dumped the empty bottles into a wicker basket. Pinching his temples he turned to face Arthur. Arthur's arms and head were slung over the edge of the bed across from Francis. The Brit's face was a bright drunken angry red, his unkempt eyebrows sternly lowered along with half shut eyes.

"I don't want to talk about this." Francis walked away into the en-suit bathroom just behind him. "Not while you're like this."

Rolling up his sleeves, Francis went towards the bath-tub and turned on the shower. Through the door he looked at Arthur would was stumbling to his feet. Francis watched in sheer exasperation as Arthur clumsily fell down on the bed. Francis sighed and went back into the bedroom. He stood over the bed, looking down at Arthur with his hands on his hips.

"Are you even going to make an effort, your own children and downstairs and you're acting more like a child than they are!" he couldn't keep back the yell in his voice.

Arthur flinched at Francis' loud demanding voice. He curled up on his side and looked up at his ex. "Answer my question."

Francis was taken back, he had hoped Arthur would drop the subject but it didn't look likely. "Why do you keep saying that?"

"Why did you do it?" Arthur yelled back.

"I don't want to-"

Quickly, Arthur sat up. "Why did you sleep with her!?"

Outside the bedroom door Alfred had his ear pressed against the wood, listening to every word his parents said. Matthew pulled away when Arthur pointed out the massive elephant in the room. He couldn't take it, while they had never officially told the twins about Francis' affair the two boys knew. Actually hearing about what Francis had done put Matthew on the edge of breaking point.

"How can you listen to them?" he asked his brother.

"We have a right to know why our family is split," hissed Alfred, yanking his brother's arm back towards the door. "We need to listen to this."

"It was a mistake!" Francis yelled.

"Mistakes can be erased! Putting your dick in someone is not a mistake!" Arthur bellowed back, his speech slurred.

Matthew shook his head and pulled away from the door again. "I can't listen to this. We shouldn't be listening to this." He was on the verge of tears. "Please, Alfred, let's go back downstairs."

"No, I wanna hear this," Alfred said, his ear still pressed against the door.

"I was drunk! I barely remember her!" Francis retaliated.

"Oh, so that makes it all better then (!)" Arthur said, sarcastically. "Let's just kiss and make up shall we? I'm sure now I'll be able to take you back now you've said that!"

"My god, Arthur, stop trying to act as if the breaking of this family was my fault!" Francis' voice grew louder and louder. "I shouldn't have come here. I'm gonna take the kids back to mine-"

Footsteps made their way towards the door. Alfred pulled back slightly, fearing that he would be caught. Matthew stood against the wall, he didn't hear what Francis had said as he was too busy trying to compose himself.

"Don't you dare!"

There were some struggling noises just behind the door. Matthew looked up towards the door, hearing his parents arguing was heart-breaking on its own, but actually knowing the two were ready to fight each other was enough to made him turn cold. He couldn't take it anymore; he had to make the stop.

"Matthew, what are you-" Alfred cut himself off when Matthew yanked open the door.

Neither Arthur nor Francis seen the door opening otherwise they would have stopped at that very instant. Francis wouldn't have yanked his fist backwards, preparing himself to club Arthur in the head. His same fist then wouldn't have collided with Matthew's noise causing the teenager to fall backwards, clutching his nose in pain.

The two exes stood in horror as they looked at their son. Matthew narrowed his eyes and shot them a dark look. He felt blood dripping from his noise and quickly scurried to his feet and back downstairs.

"Matthew!" The two fathers reached their hands out towards their son but were stopped by Alfred.

"The both of you are just as bad as each other!" Alfred yelled, his legs shaking and face reddening. "Why don't the two of you stop fighting and see how badly this is impacting us?" He turned away and ran on the same path his brother took. "Mattie!" he yelled after his hurting brother.

Alfred flew down the stairs and into the bathroom where he heard the sound of running water. Mattie was hunched over the sink, splashing water on his bloody nose.

"Oh god, Matthew," Alfred put his hand on his brothers shoulder, upsettingly. "Those assholes. I can't believe they'd be so-"

"Alfred," Matthew said, sternly. "Please, I don't want to talk about them." He turned to the small mirror and looked at his swelling nose. "It's going to leave a bruise."

"We should take you to the emergency room," he said, worried about his brother.

Matthew shook his hand in protest. "I don't need to. I've been hit in the face with hockey putts plenty of times. There's no need to go."

"But still-"

"It's okay Alfred," Matthew said, in his usual calm hushed voice. "I just need some ice and a band aid."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," Matthew nodded, turning off the tap.

Upstairs the two men had stopped fighting; Arthur was in the bathroom, dunking his face into the water filled sink, trying to sober up as quickly as possible. Meanwhile, Francis sat on the foot of the bed, his face buried in his hands.

"I can't believe I just did that," he mumbled, shame filling up inside of him. "I need to go apologise."

"Don't!" called back Arthur. "Not right now. I need to sober up first."

"You right," Francis agreed, standing up and heading towards the dresser. "Which clothes do you want?"

Arthur stripped away his smoke smelling clothes and dumped them on the floor. He turned the shower temperature to freezing before stepping in and drawing the curtain. "The first ones you find."

Francis took out a grey t-shirt and jeans, he folded them and placed them on the toilet in the bathroom.

"We need to stop this all this fighting, Arthur," he said, walking out of the bathroom.

"We can't talk about that right now," Arthur said, the cold water heightening his dulled senses. "If we do we'll end up arguing again."

Francis went back to sit on the bed, his back to the bathroom. Matthews's dark glance was framed in his mind. He felt rotten for the pain he had caused, both emotionally and physically. Francis thought about how much the twins must have been hurting, he hadn't realized how much sorrow the twins felt, the two parents had been so busy wrapped up in their own life's that they couldn't see what they were doing to their own children.

After turning off the icy water, Arthur stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel. Quickly, he rubbed himself dry – not bothering with his damp hair. While he could still feel a woozy drunkenness lulling in his head, it wasn't as bad as before. He pulled on the fresh clothes and walked right past Francis and out of the bedroom.

"Stay there," he said, half way out the door. "Let me go talk to them first."

Francis was going to protest, however he thought that perhaps the two of them going at the twins together may overwhelm them, thus he stayed sitting on the bed.

* * *

_**Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading.**_


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: Hands**

Matthew and Alfred sat in the back seat of their father's car. It had been two days since their parents argued and they still hadn't seen Francis since. The swelling in Matthew's nose had gone down significantly. Matthew had decided to put the whole thing behind him, Alfred wasn't as forgiving. He wasn't going to stop giving his parents the cold shoulder.

"I'm going to stay late today," said Arthur, looking into the rear-view mirror. "Will the two of you be able to make it home yourselves? Also I've left some money – order a pizza or something."

"Sure thing, Dad," said Matthew, clutching the back of the driver's seat. He then looked at his brother and jerked his head slightly.

Alfred just rolled his eyes and didn't respond. Arthur saw his son's angsty behaviour and was growing very tired of it. "You cannot keep acting like this, Alfred. What your father and I did was wrong and I understand your feelings. But-"

"Do you want us to save you a slice?" Alfred said, cutting him off.

Alfred was sick to death about having to have serious talks with his parents. What he really wanted was for them to just get along. He wanted everything to go back the way it was.

Arthur was taken aback. He never expected for Alfred to respond with such a casual question. Letting out a small sigh of relief Arthur turned to his boys. "Please."

He stopped the car just outside of the school grounds. He knew parking was going to be a difficult job since it was Monday morning, so he decided to stop further away. Besides, some small exercise would have done the twins some good.

The two brothers grabbed their bags and got out of the car. They waved goodbye to their father and let out one big synchronised breath. They never thought that seeing school would bring them such joy.

Toris had brewed a fresh cup of coffee for both himself and his partner. The coffee which was supplied at the office tasted like dirt, so Toris always brought his own brand of coffee. He carried the two steaming mugs into Arthur's office – Toris' office was having some repairs and in the meantime he was to share Arthur's. Gently, Toris set down the mugs on the desk before heading back outside and to reception.

"Has the autopsy results come through, Cheryl?" he asked, leaning his elbows on the high desk.

Cheryl looked down at the many papers which littered the front desk. She picked up a dull yellow paper folder and handed it to the investigator. "Here you go, sir," she said, smiling.

"Thank you," Toris replied, taking the folder from her hands.

Just as Toris turned around the main doors swung open. Arthur waltzed inside the building with an exasperated look on his face.

"Morning, Arthur," said Toris, a happy grin on his face. "How was your weekend?"

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose. "You don't want to know. Mornin', Cheryl."

"Morning, Mr. Kirkland."

Arthur turned back to his partner and stopped the folder tucked under his arm. "Is that the autopsy?" He pointed at the folder.

"Yes," Toris said, untucking the folder from his arm and placing it between his fingers. "I was just about to go over it."

Arthur yanked the folder from his partner's hand. Nippily, he walked towards his office while opening the folder. Toris had to break out into a small jog in order to keep up with the Brit. By the time the two entered the officer Arthur had already glanced over the report. He had a confused look on his face.

"What is it?" asked Toris taking the chair opposite the desk.

Arthur put down the folder and rubbed his face. "Says here she'd been dead for three days before she was found. Seventeen stab wounds and no eyes."

"She looked pretty fresh to me," commented Toris.

"She was. Whoever did this to her preserved her body for a while after killing her." Arthur drew a disgusted look at the folder, as if it was the killer himself. "But why take the eyes?"

"Is there any evidence which points to our killer?" Toris asked, leaning forward.

Arthur shook his head. "None, but whoever did this is one nasty little-"

The telephone rang loudly in the officer, cutting off Arthur's insult. Arthur picked up the phone and brought it to his ear. "Hello, Arthur Kirkland speak-" Arthur sat up straight. "Yes. Uh-huh. Has anyone else looked her over? We'll be right there!"

Arthur slammed down the phone and had a sullen look on his face. Leaning forward, Toris steadied his elbows on his knees and waited for Arthur to speak. Arthur didn't want to speak, this was the part of his job he despised. Guilt made his stomach drop. For a long time he stared at the telephone, he would have to dial the number sooner or later. He just wished he could do it later.

"Do you have Lars Van Dyk's number?" he asked, stalling for time – he already knew the number.

"It should be in your desk," Toris said. "Why?"

Arthur reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a piece of paper which held Mr. Van Dyk's contact information. He didn't answer Toris' question, instead he started down at the piece of paper. Clipped to the corner of the paper was a photograph of his smiling sister – Emma that was her name! She seemed so innocent, so kind, so pure. Arthur gently took the photo and put it in his pocket before standing up from his chair.

"I thought you were going to call Mr. Van Dyk?" Toris said, snapping to his feet also.

"I can't right now," Arthur said, patting his pocket double checking he had actually put the photograph in it. "Pray that whoever called me just now was a fucking prankster."

He bit out the words with such venom that Toris stepped back slightly. Toris had known Arthur long enough to read his emotions like an open book. The emotion Arthur had on his face was a cocktail of sorrow, rage with a hint of remorse.

Pushing past his partner Arthur walked out of his office. He left his suit blazer, the sun outside was blazing down its scorching rays.

Francis made a quick phone call to his restaurant. It had been a while since he checked in and he hoped the place wasn't falling apart without him.

"**Hello**, Bonnefoy Brasserie," chimed a voice on the other line. "Adnan speaking. How may I be helping you?"

"Adnan?" said Francis.

"Francis!? How is the hanging? I didn't expect a call from you," said the Turkish man.

"I thought I'd just check in," remarked Francis, sitting down the couch. "How is the place? Sorry I haven't been in for a while."

There was a hearty laugh on the other end of the phone. "Everything is finer than fine!" Adnan said, with refreshing confidence. "There's no need to get yourself all worried 'bout here!"

Francis smiled. "Yes, I thought so." Francis let out a gentle sigh. "I'll maybe come in during this week," he informed the Turkish man.

"Make sure you be taking it easy, man," Adnan said, with genuine concern for his business partner. "I would be guessing things aren't very good right now?"

Francis let his head fall backwards to rest on the edge of the couch. "You would be right," he said, rubbing the space between his eyes. "Things aren't going well at all."

Francis flinched slightly as he remembered the dark glare his son gave him two days ago. He was truly disgusted with himself for doing such a despicable thing. Francis knew he shouldn't have gone into that room, he should have left when he had the chance. If he had just done that then Arthur would be the bad parent and Francis wouldn't have punched his own kid in the face.

"I'm sorry to run off like this but I gotta go takes care of somethings," said Adnan, clearly in a hurry.

"Of course," Francis muttered, sitting up properly. "I'll see you later." He hung up the phone before Adnan could say his goodbyes back.

Francis dropped his phone onto the couch and exhaled heavily. He realized, as he sat alone in his elegantly decorated apartment, how bored he really was. He thought about calling either Gilbert or Antonio but after looking at the clock he guessed the two would be settled at work. He stood up and walked towards the window. It looked like it would be another beautiful day, which Francis didn't want to waste. It had been a while since he just took a stroll around the town. The day was warm enough so he left his coat and sauntered down into the street.

The street was strangely busy with people in police uniforms and suits. Francis decided to be nosey and take a look at what all the fuss was about. He found the main commotion was just outside a small allyway. He was able to push himself just behind a line of police tape. He froze up when he saw a familiar sprout of bright blond hair and bushy eyebrows.

Quickly Francis walked away from the place, with his head down.

Arthur was talking to one of the police on the scene. He took down notes into his pad before going to see the body. Toris was snapping pictures of the scene.

Arthur's breath got caught in his throat as he looked down at the body. It was Lars Van Dyk's little sister. Her face was seemingly untouched, her eyes were closed but her mouth hung open. Even though Arthur knew it was that girl he still had to check. He pulled on a glove and started to poke around in the girls pockets. He found her wallet inside her trouser pocket. Nothing was taken from it; it was thick with bills and coins.

"They didn't take anything from her?" he questioned.

"Actually they did," said an officer, pointing to the sleeves of the girls brown leather jacket.

Arthur hadn't noticed it at first, but the girl was missing both her hands. His eyes moved along the girl's body, there was something familiar about it. At first he couldn't quiet put his finger on it that was until he saw her neck.

Her shirt was slightly covering the pussing wound on her neck. He opened her eyes but they were still intact.

"Toris!" Arthur flagged over his partner.

Toris took one more picture before strolling beside Arthur. "What is it?"

"This is the same as that school girl," Arthur said, looking down at the girl.

"Are you sure?" asked Toris.

Arthur nodded his head. "It's the same style. Killing wound across the neck, fresh looking body, a missing body part, multiple stab wounds. It's all the same."

Toris bent down and studied the girl. "But he took the eyes last time."

"That's what is confusing me."

Arthur turned away and went towards a few officers who were standing by the police tape. He gave the officer his card and asked him to relay his contact details to whoever was doing the post mortem. The officer took a look at the card before nodding.

"Of course, Mr. Kirkland," he politely said, before walking away.

Arthur went back to his partner. Toris stood up from examining the young girl's body, he had a strange look in his eyes. Arthur interpreted it as sadness, or disgust. "It's horrific. Isn't it?"

Toris nodded but didn't say a word. This was this first really gruesome case the two had worked on. Arthur put his hand on his partners shoulder and gave him a smile. "I'm going to make sure we catch whoever did this."

Toris gulped as he turned his gaze away from the girl.

"We should head back to the office and look over our findings; I already got the witness statements from the other officers," Arthur said, putting his hand in his pocket, fingering the girls picture. "I'm going to let head office know this is to be our priority case from now on."

Arthur pulled out his phone and dialled his boss' number. Toris watched as the British man exchanged short words with the head. The conversation was short and to the point. Arthur motioned his hand for Toris to follow him out past the police tape. They were hassled by a few media outlets but the police were able to cut away most of their attention. All put one.

Arthur had just hung up his mobile phone a woman rushed up to him, a pen and pad in her hand.

"Excuse me, Mr. Kirkland," she said, a strong Hungarian accent flowing from her mouth.

Arthur didn't see her approach him from behind. Before Arthur had any chance at giving her a response, she flew into a flurry of questioned.

"Do you think this murder is related to Bethany Cross? Do you know why this killer would take certain body parts? Does this perhaps have any connection with the girl that went missing this morning?" Her questioning was too quick for Arthur to take in, except for the last one.

Arthur shot Toris a look, and Toris nodded.

"I don't have time for your questioning today," Arthur said rather rudely before adding, "Ma'am."

Arthur held up his hand trying to shoo her away. The two detectives pushed past her and went towards their car. Toris quickly slid into the driver's seat. The reporter followed after Arthur as he got into the other side of the car.

"Look sweetheart, I am kind of busy trying to catch a killer." He looked her in the eye. "So please bugger off before you annoy me even more."

Arthur tapped Toris on the shoulder and he sped off down the street.

_**Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading.**_


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: Missing**

When they reached the office, Arthur asked Toris to fetch him a white board while he made some calls. A girl had been reported missing that morning. Arthur printed out some information about the girl, along with her photograph.

The poor little girl was only eleven years old and hadn't shown up for school that day. According to a statement made by the parents the girl was shy and it was unusual for her not to arrive at school. Her age – and the fact that she was the daughter of some important local political figure – is what made her disappearance such a concern.

Toris wheeled in a large whiteboard into the office and set it in front of the wall. Arthur grabbed a pile of papers and photographs and stuck them onto the wall. He stuck the photographs of the three girls at the very top of the board. Underneath the pictures he placed the corresponding pieces of paper, such as their personal information, time of disappearance and the statements people had given regarding them.

Arthur looked at the information Emma's brother had given them. He stared at the brother's name and sighed.

"Do you want me to call him?" asked Toris.

Arthur shook his head. "I'll do it." He rubbed at his jawline. "Could you make me some tea please?"

"Sure thing," Toris nodded and walked out of the room.

As soon as Toris exited, Arthur yanked the phone and punched in Mr. Van Dyk's phone number. Three rings it took until Lars answered, his voice monotone.

"Mr. Van Dyk, it's Arthur Kirkland from the-"

"A police officer already called me. She's all over the news," his voice didn't change. "When do I get her body?"

Arthur coughed. "After the post-mortem, sir," he said, rubbing his eyes.

Arthur hated this part. The first time he had to do this was with a mother of a seven-year-old girl. She had gone missing too, the mother came to the office pleading for someone to find her child. They found her in a river. Arthur almost broke down in sobs himself when he had to inform her mother. The mother screamed down the phone, begging for him to be lying.

"Thank you for your help, Mr. Kirkland."

The phone clicked silent but Arthur stayed with the receiver on his face. Even though his voice was in one steady tone Arthur could tell the man was broken. Lars was all alone now, in some foreign place without his, seemingly, bubbly sister.

Arthur remembered at how difficult it was for him when he first moved from the UK. He had mostly done it to spite his traditional parents. At eighteen years old, all Arthur wanted to do was be some kind of rock star. That dream was soon beaten out of him when he realised playing the guitar outside barely got him any pennies. What made things worse was the fact that he had done everything alone – if Kiku hadn't helped him that day goodness knows what would have happened.

Toris walked in holding a cup of tea. Arthur thanked him and took the mug. He stared at the board, trying to find a connection between the two girls.

"Emma had all of her money still intact, so money isn't a motive," mumbled Arthur, bringing his mug to his face.

"There was no sexual assault either," said Toris, sitting on the desk.

Arthur set down his mug and walked up to the board. "They both were stabbed seventeen times after they were killed. Why would he do that?"

"Whoever he is he must be strong enough to do it seventeen times," commented Toris.

Arthur nodded and looked at the pictures of the first girl. "Bethany has defence bruises up and down her arm. Emma doesn't. Actually," Arthur looked deeply at the post-mortem images of the second victim. "Other than the stab wounds, she has no other marks. Yet Bethany does. Why is that?" Arthur muttered the question to himself.

Toris stretched his arms above his head and let out a tired groan. "I don't know, but what I do know is that it's lunch time."

Arthur turned to his partner and let a smile crack the line on his face. "You're right." Arthur moved over to his desk chair and pulled of his blazer. "Any ideas?"

"Some place cheap and in close proximity," Toris said – half jokingly. "And with a drive-through."

* * *

Alfred never noticed it but he really hated the fact that he never shared any classes with Matthew. More than ever, he wanted his brother to constantly be at his side. Every time someone gave him their condolences he felt like he wanted to break down. He went to school hoping to get away from his parents, not to be constantly reminded of them.

Although, he did find comfort during the lunch break.

Matthew was busy with hockey practice and wasn't anywhere to be found, but that wasn't who Alfred searched for in the chaotic cafeteria. His eyes finally fell upon a busty blonde girl. Alfred slammed his lunch tray onto the table, startling the girl.

"Dude! Stop!" she said, jumping out of her seat. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack!?" she punched his upper arm.

Alfred began giggling like a maniac as he replayed his friend's expression over and over in his head, until he could no longer breathe.

"Aw, man," he wiped at his eyes. "Oh, god. You're face. Aw, it was just the best thing ever."

"Shut it douche!" she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Aw, come on Amelia." Alfred playfully kicked her under the table. "You can't stay mad at me."

Amelia booted Alfred's shin with her own foot. He yelped in pain and brought his leg up to his chest. "Okay, that wasn't funny!"

Amelia scoffed out a laugh as she went back to eating her lunch.

"So how was your days off?" asked Amelia. "I wish my parents got a divorce so that I could get some days off school-" Amelia stopped herself when she saw the dismal look darkening Alfred's face. "I'm sorry!" she quickly said. "God, that is completely insensitive! I'm sorry, Al! God I'm a moron."

Alfred leaned his head on his knuckles and looked at his worried friend. "Can we just change the subject?" he asked, shaking his head.

"Uh, s-sure," mumbled Amelia, a guilty feeling setting deep within her gut. "Oh, did you hear about Bethany Cross, one of our under-classmates?"

Alfred shook his head, he never really bothered about the news, nor the students who were in the years below him. Although he had heard of Bethany. She was supposed to be a rather popular with the rest of her classmates.

"She was murdered," Amelia said, with a low voice. "I'm surprised no one's told you. The other day the school was going nuts about it."

"Do they know who did it?" asked Alfred.

Amelia shook her head and sipped at her drink. "Though another girl was killed in the same way she was."

"No way!" Excitement grew inside Alfred. "Our town has a serial killer?"

"Looks like it, hey isn't your dad a detective?" said Amelia, bringing out her phone and scrolling through the internet.

"Yeah, though he never talks about his work," muttered Alfred.

"I think someone wrote an article on him, and not a very nice one." Amelia handed Alfred her phone which had a small time journalist article on it.

Alfred scrolled down the page and with each word fury grew inside his gut. The woman that wrote it made his father out to be an incompetent detective who cursed at her.

"There's no way, Dad would curse at a reporter!" exclaimed Alfred. "She must've twisted it, that's what those people do." He handed Amelia back her phone. "Besides, Dad is an awesome detective!"

"I thought she was making it up," Amelia agreed. "Your dad was always real nice to me. I can even imagining him cursing."

"Oh, he curses like a sailor at times," chuckled Alfred. "Don't forget he comes from the UK. They're not all posh snobs."

Amelia let out a giggle as she finished the last of her food. "I thought British men were supposed to be gentlemen?"

"The old man likes to think he is," muttered Alfred, casually. "The only gentlemanly thing he does is wear a suit."

The two finished of the rest of their lunch, a strange silence waved over them. Alfred checked his watched and groaned loudly when he noticed there was only ten minutes left of their lunch break.

"Why don't we just skip?" suggested Amelia, leaning closer with a sly smirk on her face. "I've got my car; we could drive to your place?"

Alfred raised his eyebrow. "Why my place?"

"Do you want to help my mom with farm work?" Amelia groaned.

When Alfred was first introduced to his best friend's parents he was struck with a weird sense. Her parents just didn't seem to go together. Eduard, her father, was originally from Estonia and worked for a large computer company. While her mother, Yekaterina, was a Ukrainian woman who owned a farm house way into the countryside. Until he met the couple Alfred was in the dark about Amelia's adoption. When he did finally meet them it was as clear as day. The two teenagers grew even closer after the revelation.

Alfred scrunched up his face as he pictured himself shovelling away varies animal faeces. Amelia noticed his disgusted expression and smirked.

"Thought so," she said. "So are we leaving or not?"

Alfred rolled the idea in his head for a few moments. He knew the two wouldn't get caught as Arthur would still be bogged down at his office. It just meant that Matthew would give him a guilt trip for leaving him to go home alone. All in all, the odds seemed to be in his favour.

"Let's hurry before one of the teachers notice."

* * *

Arthur had been bubbling with rage all afternoon; he could barely even focus on paperwork. All he could think about was that Hungarian woman's article.

"I never swore at her!" he yelled, to no one in particular.

"I know," murmured Toris, who was busy at his desk finishing his own paperwork.

Arthur threw down his pen, discarding his paperwork in favour of brooding. "Besides she followed us! She was stopping me from doing my job!" he scoffed. "What a bloody-"

Just as Arthur was about to curse out the woman, the phone rang. Arthur picked it up, his eyebrows furrowing and a scowl on his lips. "Hello?" he said, more harshly than he intended to.

Toris turned in his chair to watch his partner as he had a short conversation. He tried to hold in a laugh as he remembered the article. While the reporter hadn't named Arthur himself, the two knew whom she was talking about. Toris still had the article loaded up onto his computer and went back to look at it. 'One detective I spoke to – who had the most ridiculous eyebrows ever known to exist – refused to comment and instead swore when I tried to receive information on the tragically missing little girl'. Toris coughed back a laugh as he re-read the line.

Arthur hung up the phone and stood up. "That was Cheryl," he said, still angry. "The post mortem has been done on Emma Van Dyk. We should go speak to the doctor."

Toris nodded, biting his lip to stop his snicker.

"Would you quick bloody laughing," Arthur tutted, strolling out of the office. "It's not that funny!"

Toris quickly followed his partner. "From where I'm standing it's pretty hilarious."

"Oh really? You think this is funny?" muttered Arthur. "How about you do all of the paperwork for this case? Then we'll see who's laughing so much."

The two men walked out of their office. With Toris trying hard to keep his childish giggles at bay. Throughout the journey to the hospital, Arthur sat with his arms tightly crossed over his chest. He didn't care if he was being childish about the whole situation; he had the right to be.

Toris was trying hard to get Arthur to quit his brooding act.

"Can we just forget that sodding article exists and pay attention to the murder case? Please?" he said, as the two made their way to the main desk.

Toris happily agreed before turning his attention to the receptionist. The man behind the desk looked at their badges and took them down to the basement. There they met the coroner who took them to see Emma's corpse. The man walked them through what he had discovered most of it Arthur already knew. The killing blow was the slash to the neck; afterwards the killer stabbed Emma's seventeen times with a sharp object; he then preserved her for a day after she was murdered.

"Can you tell us how she was preserved?" Arthur asked.

The man nodded and took a small glance down at his chart. He seemed to be in a rush and really didn't want Arthur nor Toris to be in his domain. "Alcohol."

"Alcohol?" questioned Arthur. "A body can be preserved like that?"

"Oh, certainly," said the doctor. "A woman once kept her dead son perfectly preserved by keeping him in alcohol and dressing him in bandages."

The story made Toris shiver, or perhaps it was the fact that he was in a room filled with dead bodies.

Arthur rubbed his chin. "Is there any particular way to do this?"

"My guess is that whoever did this kept in her something big enough to hold that much liquid and a dead body," muttered the doctor.

Arthur clicked his fingers. "Like a bath?"

"That must be very expensive," said Toris. "How much alcohol would it take to fill an entire bath?"

"Do you know what type of alcohol it was?" asked Arthur.

The doctor shook his head. "I don't know which brand but I'd guess some kind of spirit."

"Vodka?" asked Arthur.

The doctor shrugged his shoulders before writing into his chart. "Have you gotten everything, because I'm a little busy?" The doctor gestured slightly towards the other dead bodies behind him.

Arthur nodded before shaking the doctor's hand. "I'll be in touch if I need anything."

The two detectives gave polite nods at the doctor before hastily strolling out of the cold blue basement.

_**Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading/reviewing.**_


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Catch

Comic books lay open on the floor as Alfred sat on his bed, a bowl of cheese puffs in his lap. While Amelia lay beside him, her head on his keen and a stack of comics piled on her stomach. It was nearing four o'clock and the two had stayed in that position since they arrived, blissfully engrossed in the adventures of various super heroes and heroines.

"Why do you have so many Super-Man books?" Amelia asked, tilting her head back to see her friend.

"Because he's like the ultimate super hero," Alfred said, through a mouthful of puffs. "Why, don't you like him?"

"I do, it's just he's kinda boring," she said, flicking the page.

"You sound like every troll on a form board ever," scoffed Alfred.

Amelia stuck her tongue out at Alfred and the two shared a chuckle. Looking at the digital clock on Alfred's dresser and groaned.

"I'm gonna have to start driving home soon if I wanna get back in time," she dropped the comic on her face and murmured through it.

Alfred shrugged. "Why don't you just stay today?" he asked.

She tugged at her school uniform. "In these clothes, no thank you," she said.

Alfred made a noise and pushed up off his bed. He took three long legged strides to reach his dresser and yanked opened the top drawer. He pushed through some of the unfolded clothes, before pulling out a few smaller items of clothing. "Here," he said, throwing them at the girl.

Sitting up straight, Amelia held up the clothes and examined them. She recognised them as being missing pieces from her own wardrobe. "When did I leave these?" she asked, unfolding the skirt.

"Remember that time your house was getting fumigated," he said.

"That was like two years ago!" Amelia exclaimed. "You've had my clothes for two years - you're a weirdo."

Alfred felt his face turn hot with embarrassment. "I forgot they were there," he objected.

"You better not have smelled them when I'm not looking," she mocked, a sly smirk edging on her lips.

Alfred took a step forward. "It's not like that! You need to get your mind out the gutter."

"You need to stop smelling peoples clothes."

Alfred pounced on the girl and pinned her down with his knees, fingers wiggling down to her sides. Laughter exploded from her gut as Alfred tickled her sides. Of course she begged him to stop through tears of painful laughter but that just made his fingers jab harder at her ribs. She retaliated in the only way she knew; fighter fire with fire. Her fingers flew to his collar bone, Alfred jerked back, startled by the tickling sensation.

The two tussled around each trying to gain the upper hand on the other. Neither of them won but were instead stopped by a slight cough by Alfred's door frame.

"Should I come back?" Matthew said, a hockey stick in his hand.

-

Arthur rubbed his eyes as he started at the board. There was a panicked sense of running time filling his gut. The little kidnapped girl was running out of time, and every second Arthur spent not fitting the puzzle pieces was a second closer to the girls death. He had to figure out where she was and fast. No matter how hard he thought about it he just wasn't able to pin point a location. The dumping sites on each body just didn't seem to make any sense.

Toris startled Arthur by walking into the office, a cup of tea in on hand and coffee in the other. Never had he seen Arthur get so consumed by a case. He guess that Emma Van Dyk really must have shook him.

"You should go home, Arthur," Toris said, gesturing to the darkened sky. "It's getting late. By tomorrow you'll be freshened up ready to try again."

Arthur shook his head. "There's a little girl out there…I need to find her." Arthur had a strong flame of determination burning hotly in his eyes. It almost frightened Toris.

"There's nothing we can do now, we'll just have to hope that by tomorrow some more information comes up so we can find her," Toris said, gulping down his coffee.

Arthur held his cup in his hand, exhaustion suddenly casting over him like a wave. He knew Toris was right. He was just chasing his tail by staring at the whiteboard. He just hoped that the girl would make it through the night. Deep down, Arthur knew that if that young girl didn't make it he would descend into madness.

The image of the dead Emma still flashed in his mind every so often and at random intervals. That poor girl, that poor poor girl, he said to himself. Sloving a murder case was never as glamorous as the television shows and novles made it out to be. Solving them was cruel, because there was a slight chance that the sicko he was chasing could slip through his fingers never to be seen again. Arthur made a mental note that no matter what he would personally see that the evil person who was doing this vicious act was brought to justice. Justice would actually be kinder than him.

Sighing deeply, Arthur moved to his chair and pulled his blazer off the back of it. He slid his arms through the sleeves and nodded.

"You're right," he said, to Toris. "You're right."

He quickly walked past his partner keeping his eyes on his shoes.

"I'll finish up with the paperwork," Toris said. "You just get home and sleep."

Arthur nodded but didn't look up at the man. Instead he just quickly got out of the building and lit up a cigarette as quickly as he possibly could.

-

Francis stood looking outside the window, the city lights dazzled like stars. The house was far too quiet for Francis' liking. At night he once chatted with the twins, or helped with homework, or annoyed Arthur…

Arthur, Arthur, Arthur.

Why couldn't he get that damned British man out of his head. His ex-husband was stuck in his mind like a very catchy pop tune which was constantly playing on repeat. In frustration Francis stuck his hands into his blond locks, letting out a long and hard groan as he did.

Arthur, Arthur, Arthur.

Over and over he kept picturing the man in his head asking himself questions he knew would never be answered. What was he doing? Was he okay? Had he gotten home from work safely?

Even when the two were married Arthur never played on his mind as much as he did at that moment. It pissed Francis off more than anything. In pure irritation, Francis grabbed his jacket and rushed out of the apartment and into the street. For almost an hour he just aimlessly walked around the street, hoping that would take his mind away from Arthur.

Eventually the sight of a petite bar caught his attention. Growing a deep craving for a glass of wine Francis started to jog until he reached the bar. He walked in to find it deserted. He guessed it would be anyway considering it was a Monday evening and not many people would want to visit such a place at that time. There were a few people cozening at the back of the bar with a book in their hands or chatting with a close friend. However there was one thing disturbing the mellow ambiance. By the bar two people were arguing. One voice sounded as sober as a nun, the other voice sounded so drunk that it was a miracle words could even spill from his tongue. Francis froze when he saw who the voice belonged to.

"Arthur," he whispered slowly to himself.

Francis was about to exit the bar when he noticed the argument growing more fiery. He could see the sober man growing angry at Arthur. Francis knew that if he didn't intervene Arthur would quickly have a bruised eye.

"You should really watch your mouth," bellowed the sober man.

Francis quickly stepped between the two much to Arthur's annoyance. At first he didn't recognise his ex-lover in his drunkenness. It wasn't until the scent of roses clogged his nose that he was able to pin point Francis' identity.

"What the hell are you doing?" Arthur slurred, barely able to keep himself up.

Francis ignored Arthur and spoke to the sober man. "I am very sorry for my friends attitude, I'll take him home now." Francis gave a polite nod to the man, yanking Arthur's arm as he did.

He dragged Arthur out of the bar kicking and screaming like a little child who had suddenly had his toy taken away. Once they were outside Arthur was able to break free of Francis grip.

"Did you follow me here?" Arthur almost fell on the concrete so had to keep on hand on the brick wall stopping him from falling. "Why?"

"Oh, don't be so full of yourself. You're actually lucky I came in when I did," hissed Francis, a headache brewing in the back of his mind. He rubbed his temples while looking around for an incoming taxi.

"I was fine before you showed your face!" Arthur pushed off the wall, tripping his own feet as he did.

In an instant, Francis lunged forward, keeping the British man on his feet. Far too drunk to have any real care, Arthur allowed Francis to keep hold of his waist. The sickening and burning stench of alcohol flowed from Arthur and into Francis' nostrils. Controlling the urge to gag, Francis moved to Arthur's side, hooking his right arm over his own shoulders. Dragging Arthur beside him he was able to flag down a taxi with much difficultly. The taxi driver wasn't particularly happy about having Arthur in his car but Francis was able to reassure the man that Arthur would be on his best behaviour.

Just as Francis was about to give the driver Arthur's address he stopped himself and glanced at the drunken Brit. There was absolutely no way he could take Arthur home where the twins would already be in bed. If they saw him in such a state it would cause a huge argument and the two men had already caused enough damage in their boys.

Instead, Francis gave the address of his own apartment. Arthur never objected, mainly because in his drunken haze he couldn't comprehend what Francis had said. Once the taxi began to float along the streets Arthur found that his eyes grew heavier by the second. When they fully opened again Arthur found himself being held up by Francis as he fumbled with putting a key inside of a door. He didn't recognise where he was until Francis dragged him inside.

Soberness was starting to cast its wicked spell on Arthur and he snapped straight on his feet. "You took me here!" he exclaimed, looking around the room. As quickly as his sober moment came, it disappeared leaving the sturdy feeling in Arthur's leg turning to jelly. He slumped backwards, the only thing that stopped his falling was the wall. Francis ignored Arthur and took to the kitchen, in order to make a coffee to try and sober up Arthur. He stopped mid-pour, as a crashing sound along with a cruse hissed from Arthur's mouth. Racing back to the living room, Francis found Arthur struggling to put back a lamp onto a small side table. Rolling his eyes Francis went over to Arthur and grabbed the lamp out of his hand.

"Must you destroy my home?" Francis hissed.

"I was trying to fix it," hissed back Arthur with much more venom.

"Just sit on the couch," barked Francis, gesturing to the lush couch.

Not having enough strength to argue, Arthur stumbled over to the couch and flopped down on it hard.

Francis went back to fixing up a brew of coffee. Even though he knew Arthur hated the taste of coffee Francis couldn't think of a quicker way in getting Arthur sober quickly. He looked up at the clock and see that it was almost one o'clock in the morning. The boys would most likely be in bed but Francis took out his phone and dialled Matthew's number. However, his thumb hesitated at the call button. He hadn't spoken to the boys since Arthur and himself fought. He knew eventually he would have to confront his mistake eventually. Without anymore hesitation Francis hit 'call' and pressed the phone to his ear.

Matthew answered on the third ring - quicker than Francis thought.

"Hey, papa," he said, surprisingly cheery.

"Uh, Matthew," Francis mumbled.

"Yeah, what is it?" Matthew said, with what sounded like food in his mouth.

"Wh-what are you doing up so late?" Francis said, shaking his head with confusion.

Matthew paused for a moment. "Oh no is that the time! Wait…" Matthew seemed to have pulled his phone away from his face. "Where's dad?"

Through the phone Francis could hear Alfred mumble, "I dunno."

"Matthew, Matthew, it's fine just," Francis got back Matthew's attention. "Don't worry about your dad that's why I'm calling."

"Oh, you know where he is?" said Matthew, surprised.

"He's working late, some big case he just can't get away from the office right now," Francis said. "He'll be home tomorrow since its his day off."

"Oh," said Matthew. "Okay, why didn't he call us though?"

Francis froze and quickly said the first thing that came into his head. "I past by his office and he told me; his phone is dead."

"Alright then," Matthew murmured.

Francis sighed into himself. "I'll talk to you other time, Matthew. Tell your brother goodnight from me."

"Will do, night papa," Matthew quickly said.

"Goodnight. I love you," he said the last part as quickly as he could.

Matthew smiled through the phone. "Love you too, papa."

The conversation ended.

_**A/N: Oh, boy where to start! Firstly I am very sorry this took so damn long to do, my laptop broke and I no longer had any internet at home blah blah blah. I'm just happy now to be back into the swing of things.**_

_**Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading/reviewing.**_


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Lost and Found

Waking up to the soft smells of roses and croissant was strangely nostalgic for Arthur. At first he thought it was a Sunday morning and that he was allowed a few more hours sleep before he would have to discipline Alfred for picking on Matthew. Those days to him seemed like a fantasy, reality was much more painful.

He blinked opened his eyes slowly and found himself laying on a lush couch, a blanket pulled over him no longer in his suit but was a soft white tee and merely in his boxers. He prepared himself to sit up but a blinding headache shackled him to the couch. Everything hurt. It hurt to move, to groan, to keep his eyes open. Everything was just pure sharp pain.

Arthur stayed on the couch with his eyes closed, listening as the shower ran. He knew that Francis always took forever in the shower so he guessed that he would have ten minutes to race out of the apartment. It was almost funny that would have to sneak away from his ex-husbands house, as if he was a cheap one night stand. However, this was not the time for laughter.

With a pounding head, he gave himself two minutes to stay laying on the couch. Only two minutes to enjoy a small fantasy. For two minutes he pretended that he was still married and hadn't just woken up from a night of heavy drinking. Those two minutes went by quicker than he had hoped.

Too quickly he stood up and wobbled to his suit folded neatly on the arm of the couch. Quickly he pulled off the tee and threw it on the back of the couch. He grabbed his trousers and pulled them on, falling back on the couch as he did. He had a lot of difficultly with his belt, his fingers fumbled over the buckle as he tried to pierce one of the holes. Eventually he was able to secure his trousers and went to tug on his shirt. The smell of lemon waved up to his nose from the shirt. Francis had washed them, how nice. He thought sarcastically.

As he was about to do the first button he heard the running water stop and the door of the bathroom opened.

Arthur turned around with an unbuttoned shirt to face Francis who stood gripping a towel which loosely hung at his hips. For a split second the sight of the half nude Francis caused a burn of desire deep inside Arthur. He thought long ago that desire had ceased and he quickly ignored it.

Arthur ignored both his lust and Francis and continued to get ready. Francis just stood and watched as Arthur slipped on his blazer.

"Where's my tie?" he asked, pulling up one of the cushions.

Francis moved slowly to the edged of the couch and held up Arthur's tie. Arthur yanked it out his hand and draped it around his neck. For a while the two just stood in silence as Arthur fixed his tie. Eventually Francis spoke up first.

"We can't keep having this hatred between us," he said, moving to sit on the couch. "It's not good for us and it's not good for the twins."

Arthur felt like biting back and saying something nasty to Francis, but all the fight had been beaten out by him. He didn't want to argue, he didn't want to feel anymore pain and her certainly didn't want to cause anymore pain himself.

Sighing heavily he sat next to Francis on the couch and put his head in his hands. "I hate you, you know that."

"I don't blame you," Francis leaned back. "I never answered your question."

Arthur looked back. "Hm?"

"Why I did it," Francis rubbed his face. "I was lonely…you were working so hard all the time and it just felt like-"

"Don't try to blame this on me!" Hot anger started to burn in Arthur's stomach.

Francis held up his hand. "I'm not. What I did…I did it just because I could. I just went to the bar and she…she was there. I felt like you weren't."

Arthur expected himself to be more angry than he was. Instead all the fury dissolved in him, he didn't want to talk anymore so he stood up, without saying a single word to Francis, and left the apartment.

Francis' heart grew cold, he wanted Arthur to stay so he could explain himself more but he rejected the motion to try and make Arthur stay. He didn't move an inch and watched as his ex-husband left his apartment.

Just as the door slowly closed Francis' phone rang. He didn't recognise the number but answered it nevertheless.

"Hello?" he said, while pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Francis…uh…it's…it's me."

Francis almost dropped the phone when he recognised the voice. It was her, the woman who had been a catalyst in destroying his marriage.

"Are you busy, I need to talk to you?" she said, a worried tone heaving down her voice.

"Can I ask why?" Francis tried hard to hide the annoyance in his voice.

"I would rather not talk about it on the phone," she said, her voice shaking.

Francis sighed deeply. "Look, I really thought the two of us were just never going to see-"

"I'm pregnant."

* * *

Arthur returned to his house just in time to hear his telephone ring loudly through out the house. It was almost one o'clock in the afternoon and he wasn't expecting a call. He let the answering machine pick it up.

"Arthur, it's Toris," said the telephone. "Please pick up. I know it's your day off but we found that little girl-"

Arthur yanked the phone off the cradle and placed it on his ear.

"Toris, I just got in! Please tell me you found that little girl alive," he said in hurried panic. "I could really use it right now."

"Come down to the office, I can't tell you over the phone," Toris said, although there was a hint of glee in his voice which made relief wash over Arthur.

"I'll be right there!"

Arthur slammed down the phone with a new found vigour. Forgetting all about his hangover, Arthur raced out of the house and into his parked car. The only time he stopped was to drive to a small coffee shop to pick up a cardboard cup of tea to sooth his headache.

Toris stood outside in the office parking lot, a file in his hand, eagerly awaiting his partner to show up. Arthur got out his car, a slight smirk on his face.

"Give me good news, Toris," he said, taking the file.

The two walked towards the office while Toris updated Arthur.

"Last night a truck driver was making a pit stop." They slammed through the doors, giving slight nods to Cheryl at reception. "When he gets to a gas station he sees the man acting incredibly suspicious. The two get into an argument and just before this shady man goes back into his car the truck driver sees this little girl and recognises her as Maddie Bell-"

"The missing girl, yes?" Arthur conformed. "Is she here?"

"She's with her parents," nodded Toris.

"What about the truck driver and the kidnapper?" asked Arthur.

"Both are awaiting questioning, I was waiting for you," Toris smiled, feeling proud of himself.

The two stopped at the interrogation rooms, Arthur gave Toris a strong pat on the shoulder before opening one of the doors. Behind it sat the truck driver, his elbows on the table, the man wore glasses and had scruffy pale blond hair which desperately needed a comb. The man had a very intimidating aura around him just due to his static expression. Arthur took the only seat in front of the man leaving Toris to stand by the door.

"Mr. Oxenstierna?" Arthur looked down at the file. "Firstly I would like to thank you in helping us find Maddie Bell."

The man didn't say anything but instead grunted and nodded his head.

"I understand you are mostly eager to get back on the road but I just need to ask you a few questions,"

Again the man grunted and nodded.

"Could you relay to me the events upon you finding Maddie Bell last night, please?" Arthur asked.

The man nodded but took a few moments to speak, as if he was mentally preparing himself. "I was at the gas station when I noticed a man acting very strange. It was like he was yelling at someone."

"Where exactly was the man?" Arthur questioned, trying to paint a picture in his head.

"By his car, he was leaning into it and talking rather loudly," said Mr. Oxenstierna.

Arthur nodded his head and wrote something down in a small notepad. "Please continue Mr. Oxenstierna."

Oxenstierna nodded his head slowly and began to speak once again. "I left my truck to go and find out what the man was yelling about as I thought I could hear a child crying." Oxenstierna looked over to Arthur who was nodding away, believe everything Mr. Oxenstierna was saying. "When I got over there the man immediately began to yell things at me when I asked if everything was alright."

"What kind of things did he say?" asked Arthur, who had looked up from his notepad.

"He said things like 'this is none of your business', 'leave me alone everything is fine'. Although there was much more cursing."

"Hmm-mm," nodded Arthur. "And so how did you see Maddie Bell?"

"At the back of the car I seen the little girl pop up her head, she was crying and kept mouthing at me to 'help her'," Mr. Oxenstierna explained. "I had seen news reports on the missing girl and recognised her straight away. I yelled for someone to call the police as I ran to the other side of the car and pulled the girl out."

"A very brave thing you did, Mr. Oxenstierna," praised Arthur.

Mr. Oxenstierna looked down keeping the same blank emotion as before. "Is she okay? The girl? I haven't seen her since we arrived here."

"She's with her family," Toris said, suddenly.

Mr. Oxenstierna let out the smallest of sighs. "Tack och lov," he breathed softly, a faint shadow of a smile on his lips.

Arthur wrote a few more things down on his pad before standing up and shaking Mr. Oxenstierna's hand. "Thank you again, you're free to go now. If we have any more questions we have your contact information."

Mr. Oxenstierna nodded to the two detectives before leaving the interrogation room. Toris and Arthur stayed, going over a few notes. Eventually they left the first interrogation room and into another.

The kidnapper was a slob, his pot belly folded in between his legs. A stale smell filled up the room. Arthur didn't even try to keep the disgusted look from his face. Just like with Mr. Oxenstierna Arthur took a seat right in front of the kidnapper. He didn't even bother to look at the mans name.

Arthur kept the man waiting for a long moment. The Brit just stared down the man, a look of boredom and disgust on his face. Eventually the man grew fidgety from discomfort, that was the moment Arthur decided to start speaking.

"Do you get a kick out of it?" he said.

The man didn't respond.

"Does stealing young girls give you a thrill?"

Again the man choose to remain silent.

"Is this the only way your able to get off?"

The man shifted his weight in the chair.

Arthur sighed and shuffled the papers on the table. He pulled out three pictures. The first one was of Maddie Bell - the very girl he had taken - the other two were of Emma Van Dyk and Bethany Cross.

"Your victims seem to just get younger and younger, huh?" Arthur leaned forward.

The man glanced at Emma and Bethany but didn't seem to react to them, much to Arthur's disappointment. However, he did stare at Maddie, an evil glint lighting up his eyes and almost causing Arthur to throw up.

"What body part were you going to take from Maddie, eh?"

"What?" the man looked up at Arthur. "What do you mean body part?"

Arthur slammed down his finger to Emma. "Emma Van Dyk, her hands were missing! Bethany Cross, her eyes were missing! So what were you going to take from Maddie? Where do you keep them? Are they just reminders of the trills you once had with these girls?"

The man started to sweat as Arthur's voice grew louder and harsher. "I swear I've never seen these two girls before."

"Do you really think I believe that?" Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Especially after we have just caught you red handed kidnapping an innocent little girl!"

"I swear it's the truth!" the man said panicking. "I don't know nothing about these girls!"

Arthur stood up, his hands placed firmly flat on the table, his face leaned close towards the mans. "You better start telling me the truth and maybe, just maybe, you'll escape the death penalty."

The man looked terrified. He looked at Toris as if he could provide some sort of comfort but Toris was busy looking at the mirror in the room, uninterested.

"I swear! I swear, I didn't kill anybody." The man began to bubble up with tears. "I just…I just…I just." The man lost the ability to speak due to sobbing uncontrollably.

Arthur gave one last disgusted look at the man before scooping up his papers and nodding to Toris that he was finished. Once out of the room and into Arthur's office Arthur grew even more furious. While the man was guilty of taking Maddie killing Bethany and Emma was something he didn't do.

"Fuck! Fuck!" Arthur kicked his desk out of sheer frustration.

"Arthur-"

"Fuck!" Arthur slumped down into his desk chair, his head in his hands.

He thought he was so close to stopping these hideous murders but now he was back to square one. As he sat there cradling his head, he thought hard. He had to act fast before another girl got hurt. He pushed passed Toris and went to the white board again, hoping a clue lay there. Thankfully, this time, it did.

Arthur grabbed a white marker and wrote the word 'sprits' next to Emma and Bethany. "Get records on the top supplier on vodka in this city." He looked back at Toris who stood confused. "Now!"

* * *

_**A/N: I do enjoy dropping bombs.**_

_**Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading/reviewing.** _


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Brother and Sister

"Say something, please."

For around half an hour Francis sat in a coffee shop accompanied by the woman he slept with almost three months ago. She was cute, with bright blue eyes and blond hair which shimmered in the sunlight. Francis couldn't even remember her name until the two had arranged to meet that afternoon. It was Annabel.

"I don't know what to say," Francis eventually blurted out. "Are you sure?"

Annabel nodded. "Pretty sure." She put a hand to her stomach and pulled a sickly face. "Just over eleven weeks, according to the doctor."

The news had devastated Francis, Annabel was the last person he had ever hoped to see once again but to find out she was also carrying his child was something Francis never ever wanted to hear.

"So…uh," Francis didn't know how to continue his sentence.

"I plan on keeping it," she said, much to Francis' disappointment. "I understand if you don't want any involvement but-"

Francis shook his head. "No, that's not what I want. This is equally my mistake as it is you-"

"Mistake?" snapped Annabel. "This isn't just some math exam we failed. Don't call it a mistake."

"Then what should I call it?" snapped back Francis.

"A baby, for Christ sake." She sank back in her chair, her fingers pressed to her forehead.

Francis grew hot with worry and distresses. "I…I can't do this right now," he murmured standing up. "I'll call you tomorrow."

"Francis," she grabbed his arm just before his exit. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

Francis pulled his arm away and marched out of the coffee shop, sweat pouring from his skin. At first he didn't know what to do, in order to clear his head he began to walk down the streets wishing his problem didn't exist. Even though Francis had already taken care of two boys himself to be the biological father of another child wasn't in his life plan at all. Having children had already been scored off his plan, if anything having another child would ruin his life even more. Guilt flooded his gut as he knew how selfish he was being, he felt like some teenage boy who had just knocked up his teenage girlfriend. All that was missing was a cheap reality TV show following him around, as millions of viewers judged him for his incompetence.

After an hour of walking his legs hurt and he found himself looking up at the building where Arthur worked. That morning he felt as if he had mended slightly the relationship between himself and Arthur. He knew that the two exes would never be as close as they once were but that morning they at least made an effort to be civil. With Annabel pregnant, all the civilness would be destroyed. However, he knew he had to tell Arthur, he owed him that much.

Deeply sighing, Francis slowly walked into the office building, dread flooding every fibre in his body. He went up to the woman at reception and asked for Arthur. The woman nodded and took to the telephone on the desk.

"His partner will be here in a second," she said smiling after she hung up the phone.

It took around three long agonising minutes before Toris showed up by the reception desk. He looked at Francis bewildered and scared that he would cause a scene just like the last time he was at the office.

"Uh, Francis?" he said. "I'm afraid Arthur isn't here just now, can I take a message?"

Francis quickly shook his head. "Never mind…I'll…" Francis trailed off and spun on his heel. As he left the office he didn't hear Toris chase after him.

"Francis! Francis!"

Toris was able to intercept Francis in the parking lot.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Toris said breathlessly, as he ran in front of Francis. "What is the matter?"

"It's nothing,," Francis said, running his hands through his hair. "Really, it's nothing."

"Hey," Toris put his hand on Francis' shoulders in an attempt to comfort him. "Really Francis, what's wrong?"

* * *

Arthur had poured himself over all the little shops which sold spirits in the area. Already he had spoken to a handful of shop owners. He looked over their sales list but could find no one who had recently bought large amounts of vodka, gin, or whiskey. It was nearing the end of the day before Arthur finally made a breakthrough.

He came across a small shop near the edge of the city. The liquor store was owned by a large Russian man which, despite his smiley face, Arthur couldn't shake the feeling of unease he felt from the man.

"Hello," said the Russian man, as Arthur entered the store.

Arthur nodded his head and reached into his blazer pocket to pull out his badge. "My name is Detective Kirkland, I spoke to you over the phone this afternoon."

The man nodded and stood up from sitting behind the counter. "Oh yes, I remember. Please come with me." The man gestured for Arthur to follow him into the back room where large boxes of glass bottles were stacked up.

"I was actually going to call the police this evening," he said as they walked into a small office like room.

Arthur looked around and noticed a young woman standing behind some of the boxes, watching both Arthur and the Russian man intently. Arthur couldn't help but he very scared by the girls stare. He couldn't get inside the office room quick enough.

"Really? May I ask why Mr…uh?" Arthur questioned, wondering why the Russian man would have wanted to contact the police.

"Please just call me Ivan," he said, sitting down on one of the office chairs.

"Okay, Ivan. Why were you going to contact the police?" Arthur asked, sitting down across from Ivan.

"For the past few days I have noticed some of our vodka stock diminishing," he said.

The revelation made Arthur's ears prick up. Finally, there had been a break in this case which had haunted Arthur for the past few weeks. Perhaps with Ivan's help he would be able to find out who was killing these girls.

"Go on, Ivan," urged Arthur.

"It's nothing big and at first I thought perhaps it was just people stealing from the store," explained Ivan. "However I went through our security tapes and could no see anyone steal from our vodka supply, the only thing I can think is that it is one of my staff members." The man made a sullen look. "I do not wish to believe that one of my workers could be doing such a thing but it seems to be the only thing plausible. I haven't even said anything about this to the staff."

Arthur nodded his head while trying to put on an equally sullen face, trying to show some sympathy for the man. However, inside Arthur was screaming from achievement. "I'm going to need a list of all your employees and those who deliver your stock."

Ivan nodded and stood up. "I can give you the list via e-mail for tomorrow afternoon."

Arthur stood up and extended his hand for Ivan to shake. "Thank you for your time, Ivan. You have really helped me this afternoon."

Ivan smiled warmly. "I am glad to have helped. Could you see yourself out, I have a few things to do in here."

"Sure, sure," said Arthur, rapidly nodding his head. "If I have anymore questions I will be in touch."

Arthur exited the room with a large smile on his face. Just as he was about to exit the stock room the same woman from before intercepted him at the door frame, her hands were on her hips and a scowl was on her lips.

"What did my brother say to you?" she asked.

Taken slightly aback Arthur quickly mumbled, "I am afraid I cannot talk to you about that."

"Is it about the missing bottles?" she quickly asked. "Because if so you should look into those truck drivers. They keep on giving us weird looks. They think we're part of the Russian mob."

She was speaking too fast for Arthur to really understand or take seriously. "Ma'am, ma'am," he put his hands up trying to stop the girl from saying anymore. "I will look into this but until then can you please allow me to leave."

The girl gave Arthur a look of pure rage and hate, sending a chill up his spine. The woman slowly stepped to the side allowing Arthur to exit. Quickly, he scurried out of the shop and returned to his car. With a new wind leading him through the investigation, Arthur felt like he was making true progress for the first time since he had taken on the case. It felt good knowing that he might soon be close to giving Emma Van Dyk and Bethany Cross the justice they both deserved.

With a smile on his face he returned to his office and found it strange that Toris wasn't there. He assumed that he perhaps left work early, or to get some coffee, Arthur didn't spend too much time analysing it. Arthur took to the white board and wrote a few things down. He knew that if he found out where those missing vodka bottles were going then he'd catch the killer.

As he stood back and looked at the board - now missing the information on Maddie - a chilling thought went into his head. The young woman from before knew about the missing bottles. However, according to Ivan he hadn't told anyone about it.

* * *

**_A/N: Hey look at that I'm starting to update more. This is how I am trying to get forgiveness for my absent for so long. I am also sorry for the shortness of this chapter but I liked how it went and this is where I wanted to end it. If I kept on writing then it would just seem like filler and too much padding.  
_**

**_Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading/reviewing._**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12: Meeting**

Once Arthur realised the woman knew about the missing bottles even though Ivan had, supposedly, not shared his worries with his staff, he called the store again. However no one picked up, he tried again ten minutes later that time a high female voice rang through the ear piece.

"Yes I'm looking for the store owner?" asked Arthur, cradling the phone between his chin and shoulder.

"I'm afraid Mr. Braginsky and his sister left about half an hour ago," the woman said.

"Hmm," Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose. "You see ma'am I had a meeting with Mr. Braginsky this afternoon, I'm a detective and it's important that we get in touch with your employer. Do you have his personal phone number?"

The woman seemed to become tense. "S-sure, I can give you his number."

Arthur grabbed a pen and piece of paper just as the woman began to recite Ivan's home number. Arthur thanked the woman before ending the call and punching in Ivan Braginsky's number. It took four rings before he answered.

"Hello?" he said, with a cheery almost childlike voice.

"Mr. Braginsky, it's Arthur Kirkland here-"

"Hello there Detective Kirkland, I did not expect to have heard from you so soon," Ivan said, with some confusion clouding his voice.

"I called merely to ask a few questions, is it possible that you and your sister could come down to the station?" he asked.

Ivan took a few seconds to speak. "Of course, if you could just give us the address and the two of us will be down in no time."

"Thank you, Ivan," Arthur said, straightening his posture.

After giving the address of the building, Arthur said goodbye to Ivan before racing to his desk and typing in the name 'Ivan Braginsky'. There wasn't very much in the database to warrant any suspicion towards Ivan. There was a few minor crimes, all which were committed when he was very young, since then he had been a model citizen. Arthur then went to check on his family records and froze mid-scroll when he recognised the name Yekaterina 'Katyusha' Braginsky. Clicking on the name brought up a record of a woman with platinum blonde hair and a smiley face. Instantly Arthur recognised her as the adoptive mother of Amelia, Alfred's closest friend. The woman had a clean record, she was a woman who had no evil bone in her body, Arthur liked the woman and trusted her to have Alfred overnight when both their children were young. Arthur found it hard to believe that someone as kind and nurturing could be related to someone like Ivan's scary sister.

After looking through Yekaterina file Arthur looked over the file named 'Natallia Arlouskaja'.

"God…" breathed Arthur, as he read through the girls file.

Every since she was a pre-teen, Natallia had always been in trouble. Her first time she got in trouble with the law was when she set fire to an abandoned warehouse. Her half-brother Ivan, however, was able to get her a pardon. Two years later she ended up inside a juvenile detention centre for arson once again, this time she set fire to the girls bathroom at her school. Her last offence was when she was eighteen - almost five years ago. According to the file she stabbed a detective in the leg who was investigating her brother as he supposedly had connections to the Russian mob. The investigation on her brother was soon dropped but Natallia spent a few days in jail, the charges on her were dropped as the detective no longer wished to drop charges. Arthur flinched slightly when he seen the name of the detective she assaulted.

"Toris!" Arthur said out loud.

Arthur checked the time and saw that it was nearing six o'clock. Panic filled him as he remembered the twins who would be home from school, hungry and without their father to irritate. He walked out of the building and reached in for both his cigarettes along with his cell phone. He nestled a cigarette between his lips and used the lighter to spark it up. He took in one quick puff before he dialled Alfred's number. Of course Alfred didn't pick up which meant Arthur had to call Matthew who picked up within four rings.

"Dad?" he called, happily. "We were getting worried about you."

"I'm sorry I haven't been home-" Arthur began.

"It's okay, papa called us and said you were swamped at the office."

Arthur was taken aback, Francis hadn't said that he'd spoke to the twins and had made up an excuse for him. Mentally he made a tiny 'thank you' aimed towards Francis, although he would never admit to it.

"Yeah…there's a lot of pressure these past few weeks," Arthur stuttered. "I'll be home late today again."

"Sure thing, dad," Matthew murmured, clearly a little upset.

"There should be some money in my room on my dresser, use that to get yourselves another take-away," suggested Arthur.

The proposal perked up Matthew. "Great! We'll keep you by some curry?"

"Please, son," smiled Arthur.

There was another voice distorted on the line which Arthur guessed was Alfred.

"Yeah, he's on the phone now! You wanna talk to him?" Matthew called. "Okay! Alfred's busy but says 'hi'."

"Is he playing video games?"

Matthew lowered his voice. "Him and Amelia have been playing them all day. She stayed last night too-" Matthew cut himself off. "Ah, I wasn't supposed to say that!"

Arthur chuckled. "It's fine, Amelia can stay as long as she wants."

Matthew let out a small breath of relief. "Don't tell him I told you!"

"Don't worry, let him play his games," Arthur felt a large smile fill his face. It had been so long since he had such a decent conversation with one of the twins. "I'm going to have to go now, Matthew."

"Oh, okay dad," Matthew said. "I'll see you when you get home."

"I'll be home as soon as I can," Arthur promised. "I love you, son."

"Love you too, dad," mumbled Matthew quietly.

The conversation ended and Arthur felt himself take on a second wind. He then finished his cigarette with the happy conversation playing over in his mind. Stomping out the bud, Arthur punched in Toris' number and waited for him to answer.

* * *

Matthew found himself sitting alone in the living room, watching a pre-recorded hockey game from three years ago. Even though he knew who won and by how many, he still watched eagerly as if it was the first time he had ever laid eye on it. This was a tradition for him, whenever he was alone he'd play this one game. A thump upstairs made him pause the game and look up. Directly above from the living room was Matthew's own room. Quickly, he ran upstairs and threw open his door to find both Alfred and Amelia pushing hockey sticks back into Matthew's closet. They both froze once they seen Matthew enter.

"Uh…" began Alfred. "We were just looking for your video games?"

"I sold those ages ago," commented Matthew, walking towards the closet and helping the two put back the sticks.

"Aww, why?" moaned Alfred.

"I wanted some extra money and I never played them," Matthew informed his brother. "Don't you have enough games? Why do you need mine?"

"Because one of mine got a scratch in them," Alfred said, putting away the last stick. "It's that star wars game you played."

"Knights of the Old Republic," Amelia said.

Matthew rolled his eyes. "I think there's a disk cleaner up in the attic."

"But the attics like the dragons den," complained Alfred. "It'll take forever to find it with all the boxes up there!"

Matthew tugged at his brothers sleeve. "Come on, it won't take that long with the three of us."

"Mattie has a good point," agreed Amelia.

Matthew's smile light up his face. The three walked out of Matthew's room and headed for the hallway, where a little string hung from the ceiling. The string was too high for just one of them too reach. Usually either their papa or dad would go into the attic but that was rare at best.

"Kneel down," instructed Amelia to Alfred.

"I'm gonna scuff my jeans!" complained Alfred.

"Now mister!" Amelia demanded.

Grumbling to himself, Alfred got down on his hands and knees. Amelia slowly climbed up on Alfred's back, who groaned under her weight. While trying to keep steady, Amelia stretched up her hand and tugged on the string. The three of them scattered as the staircase, leading up to the attic, descended from the ceiling.

Matthew was the first one to climb up the steps. He hadn't been in the attic since he was a young boy trying to sneak a peek at the Christmas presents for that year. When he entered the attic, there were no presents only dusty boxes and cobwebs. He pulled himself through the manhole and felt around one of the beams for the light switch.

Alfred came up behind him and coughed as the dust filled his lungs. "It's like a tomb."

Amelia came up last and held her shirt over her nose, using it as a shield from the dust flying in the air.

"My eyes are getting all itchy," she complained.

Matthew sighed as the two moaned about the attic conditions. "Hurry up and start looking through the boxes."

Matthew walked to the end of the attic and opened up the first box that his fingers touched. There was nothing but junk: old toys, falling apart magazines, broken photo frames and a-

"Ew!" screeched Matthew throwing away the item in his hand.

The item landed by Amelia's feet who looked at it and grinned. "Oh, my god is that a-"

"Don't say it!" yelled Matthew, cutting the girl off who was beginning to laugh.

"What is it?" Alfred walked over to Amelia and looked down by her feet, an action he soon regretted. "Dear god!" He turned around and covered his face with his hands.

"Stop acting like kids," giggled Amelia. "So your folks have a-"

"Shut up!" the twins yelled at the same time, trying to forget the shaped tube ever existed.

"Can we please not mention the sex toy?" begged Matthew, going over to another box to distract himself.

Still giggling, Amelia used her foot to kick away the toy between two boxes she had already looked through. The three then restarted their search, every so often pulling out an item which triggered a memory of happier times. They had opened around eleven boxes before Matthew found the disk cleaner - along with a video cassette tape labelled 'meeting'.

"Hey, Alfred!" Matthew walked towards his brother. "Have you seen this before?"

Alfred took the tape from Matthew and examined it. "No idea."

Amelia walked over to the boys. "Don't you guys still have a video player?"

Matthew nodded his head. "I can set it up in my room, if you guys wanna watch it?"

"Yeah, lets get outta here before I cough up my right lung," said Amelia, quickly going down the stairs.

The twins soon followed after her and the three made their way into Matthew's bedroom. Alfred sat on Matthew's bed, flicking through a book under his pillow, while Amelia spun on Matthew's desk chair. Matthew was given the task of setting up the rarely used video player. It took him a while to connect all the wires but eventually the video player hummed to life.

"Pass me the tape," Matthew asked, holding out his hand.

Amelia slid the tape into Matthew's hand. Matthew pushed the bulky tape into the slot and a fussy image came up on the screen.

"Are you getting this? Tell me your getting this?" a voice laughed on the screen.

"Hey that's Uncle Antonio!" exclaimed Alfred, pointing at the screen.

Antonio moved out of shot and the images zoomed in to show an angry Francis in a heated argument with someone in bright green hair, whose back was turned.

"Do you think they'll fight?" said the person holding the camera.

"So then the person holding the camera is Uncle Gilbert," Matthew said, kneeling in front of the television. "Who's that papa is yelling at?"

The green haired boy turned to face Francis, his arm extended and his fist collided with his face. The camera shook slightly as a tussle began, with Gilbert and Antonio laughing loudly. The three teenagers watched as Francis and the green haired man tried to grab each other into headlocks, squinting their eyes to see who the green haired man was. Eventually the fight was stopped by Antonio who was still laughing from amusement.

"Fuck off you prick!" yelled the green haired man, finally in full view of the camera.

Francis began yelling curse and insults back at the man in loud French.

"Is that?" started Matthew. "Oh my, it is!"

"That's dad? Dad had green hair," Alfred started to laugh. "What a loser."

The video clicked off and shifted to another scene of an uninteresting landmark. Bored, Alfred told Matthew to turn off the tape, still letting out a chuckle as he remembered his fathers green hair.

"Dad was weird," Alfred said. "Green hair? Really?"

However, Matthew couldn't really find the funny side. The first time his parents met they started a fight. From the beginning of their relationship to the end, all they did was fight.

* * *

_**A/N: Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading/reviewing.**_


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13: A Mess of a Marriage**

"You think I'm the one taking the bottles!" exclaimed the beige blonde girl, slamming her hands on the table as she sat in the interrogation room. It had been years since she was in one and it brought her back to her awful childhood, always in trouble, always angry, always scared and alone. Ivan had changed that and she would only do things that would make him happy.

Arthur noticed how fragile the girl was, even though her angry demeanour suggested otherwise. He had seen this before, adults with a bad past were always fragile - he knew that better than anyone.

"Your brother told me in his office that he never told his staff about the missing bottles," said Arthur, leaning back in his chair across from the girl.

Arthur had already spoke to Ivan and found out that he actually had told his sister, Natallia, of the missing stock. However, Arthur had to make sure she wasn't behind it.

"I'm not his staff!" she almost yelled. "I own part of the store too. Why would I steal from what was already part mine."

Arthur narrowed her eyes at her, a look she quickly dismissed with the folding of her arms. "You're not involved with taking these bottles?"

"I haven't taken any bottles!" she was growing more and more agitated.

Arthur started at her one last time before standing up and walking towards the door. He yanked it open and through the door Natallia could see her older brother nursing a cardboard cup of coffee.

"You're free to go now." Arthur jerked his head towards the open door.

Natallia didn't say a word as she scurried out the door and towards her brother. Arthur watched as Natallia fawned over her older brother which such passion, it was borderline obsessive. In fact, Ivan was trying hard to keep his distance hoping she would soon quiet down.

As the two siblings spoke Arthur showed them out the building. Just as Arthur waved the two goodbye as they walked down the small steps Toris ran towards the building but stopped in his tracks. Fear and horror made his eyes grow wide. Ivan walked towards him and smiled warmly, which only seemed to make Toris more anxious, while Natallia gave him a cold stare.

"Evening," Toris said quickly, before racing to Arthur who was still holding the door open, watching with a sick sense of delight.

"Do you know them?" Arthur asked giggling slightly.

"The brother is nutty and the sister…well she's batshit insane." There was a strange pang in Toris' voice when he spoke about Natallia, almost as if he was lying.

"I read her file. She stabbed you?" asked Arthur, as the two went back into the office.

"Yup…although it was my fault really," he said, rubbing his neck.

Arthur raised an eyebrow, while the two of them headed into the lounge. "How was it your fault. I thought you were investigating her brother? Part of the Russian mafia or something?"

"That's what the report says but it was just one of these really racist officers here that made the report," Toris said.

"Hate 'commies'?"

"Yup."

Arthur pushed some coins into a cold drinks machine, an ice cold bottle of water dropped into the slot and Arthur grabbed it. "So then why did she stab you?"

"I…I…" Toris sighed. "I was flirting with her."

Arthur was taken aback. "Flirting? But you were married!"

"I was only engaged then and we had a massive fight over the wedding, I needed to blow off steam and I picked the wrong way to do it." Toris rolled his shoulders.

"So she didn't take too kindly to that?" asked Arthur, as the two walked out of the lounge.

Toris shook his head. "I actually have had some close ties to that family. Much to my dismay."

"Such as?" Arthur opened the water bottle.

"They gave me a job when I was a teenager, big mistake. I don't really want to talk about it," Toris fanned his hand.

Arthur nodded and dropped the subject, wanting to respect his partners privacy. The two were just about to walk into their office when a out of breath Cheryl came running towards them.

"Mr. Kirkland, Mr. Laurinaitis!" she breathed, her bun in a mess and sweat dripping down her cheek. "We just received a phone call."

"And?" Arthur said quickly.

"Down by main street, another bodies just turned up!"

* * *

Francis made his way home after spending most of the evening with his ex-husbands partner. It was very strange telling Toris about the fact he was going to become a father again. Toris didn't react in the way Francis thought he would, instead he responded with a calm look and some sound advice: 'don't tell Arthur.'

Of course, at first, Francis thought his opinion was complete ludicrous, he had to tell Arthur, he had a right to know. However, Toris explained that telling Arthur right now could cause him to drink even heavier than he already was. It could cause Arthur into a void of booze and loneliness.

Francis thought of the consequences if he told Arthur, while his wounds were still fresh. Perhaps Toris was right, telling Arthur of the pregnancy could kill him. Just finding out about Francis' one night stand almost did.

The night of the reveal played in Francis' mind as he lay in his bed.

Francis remembered it being a Friday, him and Arthur had an explosive yelling match that day, it was so severe that Arthur sent to twins to go stay with Kiku and his sister. They were yelling, once again, about how much time Arthur was spending at the office. All day and night Arthur would solve cases and get his paperwork done, a choice which left little time for his sons or husband.

Once the twins were dropped off at Kiku's and Arthur at work, Francis drove to an out of town bar where he first laid eyes on Annabel. She was sweet, kind and knew just how to make Francis feel better.

A lot of wine and flirting later Francis awoke the next morning to see Annabel beside him, in the bed he once shared with Arthur. Seconds after waking up he seen Arthur standing by the door, a look of horror and pure sorrow plastered to his face.

Francis didn't remember Annabel leaving, but she did somehow.

The once married couple weren't able to pick up the twins, there just wasn't an opportunity. They yelled, cursed, threw things - both at each other and out the window. The house was a complete mess by nightfall as was their marriage.

Arthur sat by the dining table, his elbow leaning on the mahogany wood while his other arm was draped on the back of the chair. His hand was pressed to his forehead, trying to push out the image he had seen that morning. Francis wandered around in the same room, cleaning up the broken pieces of glass, pottery and photo frames.

It was then Arthur realised their marriage was over. He knew that deep down, with time, he could forgive Francis for cheating, but despite that he knew the two weren't happy in the marriage. He questioned if they ever were. When they first met they hated each other, fighting in some pub was how the two met.

The only reason they started dating was because the two loved how it felt to be between the sheets together. It was passionate, fiery, the best times the two ever had were in the bedroom. When they got married it was because the two were so drunk and suddenly found themselves in front of a Elvis impersonator in Vegas. Eventually the two just grew accustomed to each other. They played house for a while, just the two of them in a small apartment. Sometimes Arthur genuinely felt strange emotions for Francis, but never would he express them through words. Saying 'I love you' just wasn't their style.

At times they were happy, the two had injokes, shared things they had never told anyone else and constantly they were together. They still argued over everything and anything but it was just how they were. Arguing was their type of foreplay.

As soon as the twins made an appearance they tried their hardest to stop their childish bickering. They acted like model fathers, school runs, PTA meetings, bake sales, family vacations, they did all of it.

That was when the two were at their happiest; when they were with the twins. Francis even once made an attempt to say I love you to Arthur as they watched their suns play on a trip to the beach. However, the words just couldn't make it out of his lips. He got suck somewhere around 'I'.

All the painful and happy memories of his married flooded through Francis mind as the night ticked on. He grabbed a pillow and pushed it on his face. He searched in the depths of his mind for just one memory, one memory that didn't involve the twins to prove his marriage wasn't a total waste. Looking at the empty side of his bed, he found it.

Arthur always had nightmares, which got worse when he became a detective, but before then Arthur thrashed at night screaming about something. Francis never found out what Arthur really dreamed about but whatever it was, it was enough to jolt Arthur up right.

Before Francis, once Arthur awoke from those dreams he was up, not able to return to sleep until the next night. When Francis showed up, he'd sooth Arthur by speaking in French the most random things to him.

The two men were happy just after Arthur's night terrors, as they clutched onto each other, as fearing if either of them let go they'd lose the other forever.

Which meant the one night Francis was holding another was the day he truly lost Arthur forever.

Francis felt sick as he stared up at the ceiling. Hating that he admitted it to himself, he missed Arthur. He missed listening out for his soft breathing during the night and moving closer to the Brit whenever his breathing changed, signalling the start of a night terror.

He hated how, once again, he couldn't get Arthur out of his mind.

* * *

The crime scene was quiet, which Arthur was more than thankful for. Once again, the victum was another girl, the oldest one so far. She was twenty-seven, according to her ID, and went by the name of Samantha Bells, her name burned into Arthur's head. He couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible for her death, if only he had gotten some more evidence, tried a little harder, he could have saved her. Now Samantha lay in a ditch, her body preserved by alcohol, seventeen stab wounds around her body, a killing gash to her neck and a missing body part.

"He took the ears this time," said a stationed police officer. "All this for a pair of ears."

Arthur stared at the body. "This doesn't make sense. First eyes, then hands, now ears? What is he doing with them?" He looked at Toris.

"Black market? People are always buying body parts there," Toris suggested.

Arthur shook his head. "Sellers normally keep their victims alive. This guy doesn't." Arthur kneeled down and looked at Samantha. "Usually, cutting the neck would mean our killer wanted the victim to die quickly and painlessly."

"But why so many stab wounds afterwards?" asked the police officer.

"I don't know, but the number seventeen must mean…something!" Arthur questioned.

The officer gave a slight snicker. "Seventeen's my lucky number," he said.

"Then maybe you're our killer," joked Arthur, standing up and surveying the scene. "And why does he just dump them in back alleys?"

"Maybe he wants to feel detached?" said Toris, keeping his eyes away from the body. Arthur seen how strangely these violent murdered bodies were making Toris nervous.

"Maybe…won't really know unless we ask him."

"Mr. Kirkland! Mr. Kirkland!" rang an all to familiar voice.

Arthur groaned loudly and marched to the police tape. On the other side stood the Hungarian journalist from before, her pen and paper in hand.

"Can I ask you some quick questions?" she said quickly, jotting a few things down.

"Ma'am you need to leave," said Arthur sternly. "Now."

She acted as if she didn't hear him. "We know this killer takes body parts. Which part has he taken this time?"

"Ma'am stop with the questions-"

"Do you have any leads as to why the killer is taking these body parts?"

"I won't ask you again, ma'am, lea-"

"Also why is this killer obsessed with only female victims between the ages of sixteen and-"

Arthur's face grew red and hot from fury. "Leave now!"

The police officer rushed to Arthur's side and seen the Hungarian woman with a hurt look on her face.

"Miss please step away from the crime scene," he said, eyeing up the angered Arthur.

The woman scowled at both the officer along with Arthur. With one elegant move, she turned on her heals and left the scene, with only the sounds of her heels trailing behind her.

* * *

_**A/N: I think this was actually one of my favorite chapters to write. I just really seem to like writing about failing relationships...that didn't come out right.**_

_**Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading/reviewing**_


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14: Red Heels**

Hot fiery rage rose its way up through Arthur. As he looked through Samantha Bells body he realised that as his temper grew hotter, he wasn't able to process things clearly. He needed for his anger to be extinguished, and quickly.

He looked towards Toris who was snapping photographs of the crime scene.

"Toris," Arthur moved towards him. "Could you take over here. I just need to get home."

Toris gave Arthur a small smile and nodded. "I'll finish up here and we can go over the evidence tomorrow. Just get some rest, Arthur."

Arthur gave Toris a quick goodbye before walking away from the crime scene, nodding at the police officer who was standing by the tape. With his hands deep inside his pockets, Arthur paced through the street across from the crime scene, oblivious to a pair of bright green eyes watching him. Waiting for her time to strike.

Elizabeta Héderváry was the type of journalist who would never leave a story alone. At times she would even compare herself to a detective, she had to dig deep for the correct information and spice it up in order to turn it into a thrilling article. The story regarding the serial killer who seemed to be taking body parts was the exact story, Elizabeta loved to write about.

She watched from the shadows as Detective Kirkland walked away from the crime scene, his eyebrows knitted tightly together. She scoffed at his brooding ways and clacked her high heels back towards the crime scene. Only the plump officer and the brown haired detective stood in her way, and she knew they would be easy to take down.

"Ma'am," started the officer. "I told you before you cannot be here."

Elizabeta thought about trying to flirt her way through the police officer but his overlapping belly made her want to throw up. She couldn't flirt with him so she tried her next tactic, a tactic which always worked. Intimidation.

Elizabeta turned her nose up at the officer, emanating an aura of terror towards the officer. "I just need a few seconds to look at the body." Her words were as cold as winter dew, she struggled to keep in a laugh as she noticed the fear in the officers eyes.

"You'll have to talk to Detective Laurinaitis," he said, averting eye contact with the scary woman.

He lifted up the police tape and Elizabeta strolled under it, the perfect image of grace and coercion. Her bright red heels took her to Detective Laurinaitis , who was leaning over the body, looking down at it with a look of intensity on his face.

"So he took the ears this time," she spoke.

Toris almost jumped from fright, even though Elizabeta's heels loudly echoed through the allay, he still didn't hear her walk into the crime scene. He stood up straight an tightened his tie, giving himself a few more seconds to asses the situation. He could not allow for Elizabeta to stay in the crime scene for long as she could contaminate evidence, he wondered how she even got passed the police officer.

"May I ask you some quick questions Detective Laurinaitis?" Elizabeta readied her pen and paper.

"You may not," Toris said, trying his best to come across as stern. "I'm going to have to escort you out of the scene now ma'am."

Toris gestured for the girl to move back the way she came as he took a few paces forward. Elizabeta happily agreed, she already had seen enough of the body to write her article. A story as juicy as this would make her editor more than pleased, she even fantasised that she would get a pay rise soon.

As she exited the crime once again she nodded to the officer who coughed awkwardly, glad to see the back of the woman.

Practically skipping down the streets, Elizabeta was already planning her article in her head. The words easily came at her, all lining up to be written. Already, she could feel her fingers swiping away at a keyboard all night long. Excitement bubbled in her stomach as she walked down the darkened empty streets.

Her happiness was so over powering that she didn't sense a presence behind her until it was too late. Something covered her mouth as a strong arm grabbed her, keeping her arms pinned to her side. She tried to scream but the cloth covering her mouth muffled that. Her heart beat raced rapidly and fear spread through out her body, paralyzing her. She could smell a harsh ammonia like scent through the cloth which made her panic even more. She tried to turn away from the cloth covering her mouth but the more she struggled the harder it became to fight the onset of dizziness she received.

Within a matter of moments her eyes rolled back and her body went limp. Her story would now go unwritten.

* * *

Arthur returned home exhausted and chocking for a brew. Strolling into the living room he found nothing but mess, empty packets of crisp, pizza boxes, half filled glasses of cola, there was even a left over piece of pepperoni stuck on the couch. Arthur sighed as he took off his blazer and threw it over the arm of the couch. His cup of tea would half to wait.

Due to its tediousness, Arthur found that the job of cleaning up his sons mess took longer than expected. He even thought about whipping out the old vacuum but knew that the noise it generated would wake up the teenagers for sure. While the stench of greasy pizza still clung to the air, at least the floor was cleared.

Happy with the chaos in the living room subdued, Arthur walked to the kitchen set to making a cup of tea. Within seconds of clicking on the kettle Arthur could hear a slight ruckus coming from the staircase by the living room. He stuck his head out the kitchen door and looked across the living room to see Alfred and Amelia sneaking towards the front door.

Arthur coughed loudly and the two teenagers jumped from fright.

"What are you two doing up so late?" Arthur said, walking towards them with his arms folded.

Alfred began to sweat. "We were just…uh…Amelia was just going home."

Arthur noticed the teens had a dazed look in their eyes, as if they had just woken up. In fact Alfred was in the clothes he usually wore to sleep.

"You do know it's almost midnight?"

"Oh no! Mom's gonna murder me!" said Amelia, putting her hand over her mouth.

Arthur laughed slightly at the teenagers and their panicked expressions. "Don't worry about it dear, your father called me at work and I said you'd most likely be staying another night. I know how you two are."

Amelia let out a long breath of relief, she knew how worried her parents would be and was thankful for Mr. Krikland easing their worries. The two friends thanked Arthur before scurrying back to sleep upstairs.

Arthur went back to fixing himself a cup of tea. He drank it slowly as he leaned against the counter, along with a cigarette sitting between his fingers. The window was wide open and Arthur even had a can of air freshener at the ready for when the bud was thrown from the window. Both the cigarette and tea were long since finished before Arthur finally decided to walk to his bedroom.

When he reached his bedroom he lit up another cigarette and sat in the bathroom puffing away. He was stalling. It had been days since he had a decent nights sleep and even before his alcohol bingeing uninterrupted nights were scarce. Most of his nights were plagued by night terrors. Horrible images would flood his mind every night. At times such as then, he longed for Francis.

Quickly he shunned the thought of Francis from his mind, casting it to the depths of his brain. Eventually he stripped of his suit and into comfortable sleepwear before slipping into the double bed far too big for just him.

For most of the night he tossed and turned, sleep far away from him. Hating himself for admitting it, he was lonely. He wondered if the bed always felt so big. Arthur longed for some kind of companionship however knew dating again was out of the question. Who in their right mind would want to date a divorced man with twin boys?

It was then he thought of someone strange, Ludwig. Once, long ago, he remembered having a conversation with Ludwig regarding his three dogs. Ludwig always spoke so passionately about his furry companions and how they basically went everywhere with him. Perhaps that was what Arthur needed. The twins always bugged him and Francis about getting a pet one day but no one had the time to take care of one. However, the longer Arthur lulled the idea of a dog in the house the more he was on board with it.

He knew they couldn't get a puppy as that would require far too much time from Arthur and the twins. However, an older dog would be fully trained and would only be needing the love Arthur could provide for it. Plus the twins would mostly be home during the day meaning Arthur could take care of it more during evening times.

When he was married, Francis and himself used to take long walks around the city as the twins slept. Arthur missed that at times - especially now that insomnia seemed to be his keeper. Having a dog in the family would mean that Arthur could take those long walks again. As he lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling Arthur made his choice, tomorrow they would have a fluffy addition to their broken family.

* * *

On Wednesdays Matthew had afternoons off school. The time was supposed to be for hockey practise but no one would ever show up. On those days Francis would pick him up from school and would take him to his restaurant where Francis worked. Nowadays, Matthew would take the bus home and do some light studying. Thus it was strange that Arthur texted Matthew saying he would pick him up that Wednesday. At first Matthew thought perhaps it was a weird prank played by Alfred to get him waiting outside the school gates for a long time but it wasn't. There Arthur sat in his car waiting for Matthew.

With questions on his mind, Matthew dumped his school bag in the backseat while sliding into the passenger seat. Arthur smiled at him but it was a heavy, clearly forced smile.

"How was school?" said Arthur, sounding rather tired.

Matthew shrugged his shoulders. "It was okay, nothing special. You okay dad?"

Arthur rubbed his eyes as he pulled out of his parking spot. "Just work that's all, son."

"Why what happened?" questioned Matthew. When he was younger he remembered hounding Arthur about all the cases he took on when he first started being a detective. Matthew found it all fascinating, even though Arthur couldn't share all the details. Eventually Matthew left his questions as he slightly drifted from his father.

Arthur sighed. "Well it turns out some of the evidence we collected yesterday could have became contaminated."

"How so?" Matthew asked, pushing up his glasses.

"There was this reporter at a crime scene last night when I wasn't there - I gave that police officer stationed there one hell of an earful," scoffed Arthur.

"How could she have contaminated it?" asked Matthew.

"She may not have but I cannot be too careful, I have to wait until tomorrow before I can fully figure out what is evidence and what that damn report left behind her."

Matthew nodded along as his father spoke. "Is that why you took this afternoon off?"

Arthur stopped at a red light. "Not really, I actually was planning on taking you somewhere."

Matthew raised his eyebrow. "Take me where?"

"Remember how you and Alfred used to bug me all the time about getting a dog?" began Arthur.

"Yeah?" said Matthew, slightly excited.

"And remember how I always said no?"

"Of course."

"Well I thought that perhaps since you and Alfred are older now, that maybe getting a dog wouldn't be such a bad idea," said Arthur, glancing at Matthew.

"Your joking, seriously dad!" exclaimed Matthew happily. "You mean we're gonna go get a dog today?"

"If you still want one then yes," said Arthur, glad to see his choice made his son shine with glee.

Matthew leaned over slightly and hugged his dad just as the light turned green. "Oh, thanks so much! This is great!"

Arthur drove along, allowing Matthew to keep hugging him. It had been so long since either one of his children had shown him such strong emotions of affection. As Matthew held on to his dad tightly, Arthur could feel his heart swell. He wished he could always be so happy, but at least for a moment he was.

* * *

_**A/N: Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading/reviewing.**_


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15: Femme Fatal

Owning his own chain of restaurants across the world, was always a dream of Francis'. Some of his earliest memories were of watching his mother sing in the kitchen as she cooked up enchanting meals. At the age of twenty he had saved up enough money to open his own café which quickly bloomed. Within two years he had opened two restaurants and was working on a third. All in all he had four restaurants under his belt, all of them owned by him and run by him. Francis oversaw everything, from the ingredients to the waiter staff. Nothing went on inside his restaurants without his knowing.

Well, almost everything.

Upon receiving a text from Matthew saying that he was spending the afternoon with their father, Alfred decided to - once again - skip his classes and wander around the city. His feet took him to his fathers restaurant. It had been days since he had seen his papa and all his previous anger was now utterly dissolved into longing. All he wanted was to see Francis and tell him about his day.

Back when his parents were still together, Alfred would always ditch school in favour for having something to eat at his fathers restaurant. Sometimes he wouldn't even go to school and just spend the day with Francis, trying out whatever new cooking invention he had created that day.

Alfred pushed open the doors of the high class restaurant, it was much more busy than Alfred was used to. He started to walk deeper into the restaurant when a waitress stopped him in his tracks, an impatient look on her face.

"Please do not walk around, young man, go rejoin your family please," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"My papa owns this place," he began.

The waitress scoffed. "And I'm the queen of Berlin."

Alfred opened his mouth and resumed speaking. "Francis Bonnefoy is my father. If you could just go get him-"

"Do you honestly think I'm going to disturb the owner just for this stupid prank?" said the waitress. "Get out of here, kid."

Alfred rolled his eyes he hated whenever this happened, even though it was rare. "I'll call him myself." Alfred pulled out his phone and dialled his fathers number. When he didn't answer Alfred grew hot with nervousness and his face flushed. "He's not picking up."

"Uh-huh," mumbled the waitress, a dull grey look on her face. "Look I don't have time for this. Please just leave-"

"Can you please just get my papa? Or a manager?" Alfred cut her off.

Irritation surged through the woman, her shift was busy and time was being wasted as she stood talking to the teenager. Seeing the stubborn look on his face the waitress gave Alfred the order to stay where he was.

Alfred watched as the woman made her way to the back of the restaurant and towards a tall cleanly shaven man. The two adults exchanged words, with the man glancing at Alfred a few times. A look of mild surprise flashed on the woman's face as she stopped talking. Slowly she turned her head to Alfred before waving her hand, beckoning for him to come to her side. Smugly, Alfred pranced to her.

"Your father is in the back office, I assume you know where it is?" she said, folding her arms.

Alfred nodded his head. "I'll be going now, see ya." He winked at the woman just to rub salt into her wounded pride.

His fathers office was up a flight of stairs just out of view from the dining area of the restaurant. Alfred slipped up the steps and pushed open a door marked 'private'. Francis almost didn't even notice his son burst through the door as he was in a heated conversation over the phone.

"I'm working so now is not a good ti-" he looked up at Alfred, who was standing by the door. "I have to go. I'll call you another time." Francis didn't wait for the other person to say their goodbye's as he slammed down the receiver. "Alfred? What are you doing here?"

Alfred lazily shrugged his shoulders. "It was either here or geography, you would do the same." He threw down both his backside and his backpack on the luxurious leather couch pressed up against the wall of the office. "I'm not disturbing you am I, papa?"

Too be honest he was, since Francis had taken off work for a rather long period of time he had a lot of things to catch up on. Before his heated phone call with Annabel, he was looking for new staff to fill an upcoming restaurant he was planning to open back in France. However, he really needed a distraction from work and his baby-mother, Alfred was the prefect person for the job.

A smile wormed its way on Francis' lips, it had been a long time since Alfred had came into his restaurant in order to get away from his school work. It was a time Francis couldn't help but look forward to.

"Have you had lunch?" he asked, standing up from his desk and folding up his shirt sleeves.

Alfred shook his head. "I was hoping you'd make me something."

"Don't I always."

Francis moved from the desk and towards the door, he held it open and gestured for Alfred to walk out of the office. The son and father duo walked down from the office into the busy kitchen. A few people came up to Francis asking him questions or just to say 'hello'. Quickly Francis dealt with them with grace and swift efficiency. He moved Alfred to a back corner of the restaurant, were an unoccupied stove and counter was.

Alfred leaned on the wall next to the stove and watched as his father turned from a tired middle-aged greying man and into a man who burned with passion as he delicately mixed together ingredients. Watching Francis cook was the equivalent to watching an artist paint a masterpiece. Even though Alfred wasn't really one for cooking up extravagant meals, seeing Francis throw in spices and herbs made cooking look easy.

Alfred was staring down at the sizzling frying pan Francis was using before his father spoke up. "Could you dice those onions please?"

Alfred looked up and nodded his head afterwards he sleekly slid beside Francis and grabbed a chopping board, knife, along with a few onions by the shelves above him. He had seen Francis dice up thousands of onions before so Alfred was a master in the skill.

Francis wished that he could stop time at that very moment and just live in it for hours on end. The kitchen was his favourite place to be and having his son take part in cooking made that moment sheer bliss for Francis. Reality was cruel and within an hour Francis knew Alfred would be gone. His son would leave him and return to his ex-husband. More than anything Francis wished he could go with Alfred back to the house he once shared with his family. Instead, after his work was done, Francis would retire to his empty apartment while holding back tears for breaking something he loved dearly.

He'd give anything to be back with his sons, to be back in his home, to have his family again. He'd give anything to return to his marriage - he couldn't believe it had taken so long for him to admit it to himself.

* * *

The cat and dog home smelled a lot worse than Arthur had anticipated. A foul order of wet dog and cat litter filled his nostrils as the walked into the shop, causing Arthur to hold back the sudden urge to gag up his lunch.

A happy, if not slightly messy, girl bounced up to them, claw marks adorned her arms like bracelets. "You must be, Arthur?" she asked, a bright grin on her face. "I'm the girl you spoke to on the phone."

Trying his best not to show his discomfort for the smell, Arthur smiled and nodded his head. "Yes, I am Arthur, and this is my son Matthew." Arthur put his hand on Matthew's shoulders.

The girl nodded to Matthew before gesturing for the two to follow her into a room in the back. The smell was most foul towards the room and Arthur had to brace himself as the girl opened the door, allowing the sounds of animals boom into Arthur's ears. Swallowing hard while resisting the urge to run out of the shop and puke into a drain, Arthur pressed forward as the girl showed the various cages.

Most of dogs were rather young, a lot of them were puppies. They all yipped happily as Matthew cooed over them, pining about how cute they were.

"I said no puppies," Arthur said, sternly. "It far too much work."

The girl giggled. "You're father's right, older dogs are so much better, especially for families."

Arthur smiled at the girl and the girl warmly smiled back, with a slight pink tinge flushing on her face.

"What type of dog were you thinking about Matthew?" the girl asked.

"A big one," Matthew said, moving over to another cage which held another puppy.

The girl looked at Arthur, with a slight confused look. "A big one?"

"He's originally from Canada, they dogs they have there are huge," Arthur held up his hands in exaggerate , which made the girl giggle quite vigorously. Hearing the girls high pitched giggles actually gave Arthur a wind of confidence. It had been a long time since someone had shown him such interest.

"We have some bigger dogs in the kennels by that room," the girl pointed to another door. "Most of them are actually pretty old."

Arthur nodded to Matthew who walked a head of the adults. The sounds and smells were much stronger in that room, making Arthur break out into a sweat.

"How can you stand the smell in here?" Arthur asked, making a face as he pushed through the door and into the kennels.

"After around six years or so, you tend to get used to it," the girl said. "Though I sometimes take the smell with me - doesn't do well on a date I'll tell you that."

Arthur raised an eyebrow while holding an open mouthed smile. "Now I find that hard to believe, a girl such as yourself should only need to rely on her looks. Besides if men smell you then they're just being rather creepy - especially if it's a first date."

"Dad! Come look at this guy!"

Arthur strolled towards Matthew who was excitedly reaching over the gated kennel trying to pet a large fluffy white dog. The dog actually resembled a bear more than a dog, it almost shocked Arthur with it's mammoth size.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph that's a wolf not a dog," murmured Arthur.

The girl let out a titter. "You're actually not far off, his old owners breed him with some type of wolf actually."

"You can do that?" said Arthur shocked.

"Yup, it's actually becoming quiet popular now, some people even have full blown wolfs totally domesticated," the girl said, almost with admiration.

"He's amazing," mumbled Matthew, holding his hand out.

The dog stood up from its sitting position and lazily walked towards Matthew and allowed himself to be petted.

"His name is Kumajiro," said the girl.

"Kuma what?" said Matthew. "Doesn't matter we're taking him. Right dad?"

Arthur looked at Matthew then at the dog. "We're going to need to buy some more dog food."

"I can give you some at the front while we fill out the forms," said the girl, pointing back the way the three came.

"Okay then, we'll take him."

Matthew's grin stretched from ear to ear, he left alone the dog for a few moments just to hug his dad for the second time that dad. Arthur relished in the swelling of his heart, he wanted to freeze that moment in time and always have Matthew in his arms like that.

* * *

Elizabeta awoke to a dark and icy cold room. For almost a minute her head spun with dizziness and nausea before she realized that the reason she seemed to only see darkness was not due to the lack of lights but instead to the addition of a blindfold tightly tied over her eyes. She tried to let out a murmur or a gasp but her mouth had been gagged too.

The next instinct she had was too move her body but soon found that an impossible task. Heavy chains prevented her from escaping as she lay down stripped of clothing on a metal slab. Fearful of her life, she began to wheeze and sob uncontrollably and it made her sick to her stomach.

Elizabeta was no the type of girl who was captured and needed to be saved. Being a damsel in distress was never something she thought she'd ever be. If she was like a character in a book, or movie, or television show, she would be the femme fatale. A woman who could make any man pee himself with fear while pulling off scarlet lipstick and an emerald dress. Beauty and danger were her two main qualities. To find herself as the victim of some mad man made her sob even more.

The chains rattled by her wrists and feet and she yanked at them, trying to break free from her hell like prison. Every part of her body tried its hardest to twist, force, and slither out of the metal which held her prisoner. Every time her back arched against the cold plank she lay on a slight gasp shoot it's way to her mouth and was muffled by the gag.

She tried to scream for someone to help her but no one could hear the hushed sobs. Elizabeta was thrashing around so vigorously that she didn't hear the slight creek of a door opening. However, she did hear the shuffling of feet.

Her head turned to the source of the feet, while trying to keep her breathing steady. Showing fear was something she didn't want to give up to her captor.

Whoever took her walked a few paces away from her. Her ears strained to hear the sounds of shifting objects Elizabeta couldn't match up to what the sounds belonged to. The sounds stopped and the feet walked towards Elizabeta, stopping just by her knees.

Warm fingers slid themselves down the back of her calves. Without thinking, Elizabeta jerked her legs away from the finger tips, a sob escaped her throat.

"Shh, shh," whispered her captor, while slowly putting a gentle hand on her knee.

The tears in Elizabeta's eyes couldn't be held back anymore, fear came over her spilling out from her eyes then slowly making her tremble. All the while her captor traced his fingers along her claves.

When the fingers finally stopped their exploration of Elizabeta's slender legs, fear slowly let it's self dissolve in Elizabeta's heart. She tried her best to keep her breathing as normal as possible. So focused on steadying her lungs, she didn't hear the feet shuffle back to her. When she did realise it was only because of the sharp pain grinding through her leg which made her scream harder than she ever had before.

* * *

_**A/N: This one took a while to write as I took a little break just to relax and stuff. I may have taken a little too much time off. **_

_**Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading/reviewing.**_


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16: Fields of Poppy Thoughts**

Out in the front room of the pet shop, Arthur leaned over a counter; filling out countless forms.

"I feel like I'm taking my exams again," he said, signing the dotted line at the bottom.

As he put down the pen he looked up and saw the girl who worked at the shop had a look on her face. The type of look Arthur knew, the type of look he hadn't received it many years. There was. Jolt inside him which made him feel rather giddy; a feeling he had almost forgotten.

The girl looked away quickly giving an awkward smile as she did. She took the papers and did a quick look over them, with a fine tooth comb she looked over each answer. The girl had to, all the animals were like her family and she had to make sure they were all going to home that would take care of them just like she had. Of course she had to doubts that Arthur would look after Kumajiro, but habit forced her to be meticulous. Once everything seemed to be in order she walked over to a cabinet behind her desk and filed the papers.

While the girl dealt with the papers Arthur watched as Matthew sat in the floor with the dog. Sheer happiness was plastered all over his face, it was a look Matthew had worn in a long time. Arthur couldn't help but stare and smile at his son. He was so engrossed with watching his son beam with job that he didn't notice the girl come up behind him.

"Everything seems to be in order," the girl said. "Would you like me to give you a few supplies? We have a wide range of stock here-"

Arthur cut her off. "That's fine..." He glanced quickly at her name tag. "Poppy, but I got everything we needed this morning."

A slight smirk found its way on Poppy's face as Arthur said her name. "Well looks like he's all yours." She gestured to the hyperactive Kumajiro.

Arthur looked at his son and dog then returned his gaze back to Poppy. The two looked at each other for a second before Arthur extended his hand as a form of farewell. Poppy returned the handshake and watched as Arthur called for his son to leave. As Arthur walked out the door she mustered up every ounce of courage in her body and charged after them.

"Excuse me, Arthur?" she called out, her palms going sweaty.

Arthur's had was just above the car door handle when Poppy rushed out, a flushed but determined look on her face. Arthur gestured for Matthew to continue into the car before pace back to Poppy.

"Did I forget something?" he asked.

"Yes, I mean no," stuttered Poppy, the bravery she once had slowly diminishing. "I mean...ack."

She fished into her pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and a small pen. Before she had any time to change her mind she wrote on the paper and shoved it in Arthur's hands. Arthur looked down and saw numbers scribbled on the paper, when he looked back Poppy was already rushing back into the shop.

"Your customer service is amazing I must say," he said to her.

She stopped and looked at Arthur a bright smile on her face. "I aim to please." Once the words exited her mouth she quickly regretted them, her face flushed scarlet and before she could say anything worse she returned to the shop.

Arthur let out a titter of a laugh before going back to the car.

"What was that all about?" asked Matthew, in the back seat fussing over Kumajiro.

"I'll tell you some other time," said Arthur, with the brightest smile on his face.

Matthew would have kept his eyebrows raised and poked his father for information if it weren't for Kumajiro's whining for attention. Arthur was thankful for the dog distracting Matthew, it meant he had time to think, especially about Poppy.

The girl was perhaps somewhat too young for Arthur - he guessed she was perhaps in her late twenties - but for some reason she was interested in Arthur, and in turn this Arthur couldn't help but be interested in her. It had been a long time since he was with a woman - perhaps as late as his teenager years. In fact it had been a long time since he had been with anyone other than Francis. No! Quickly, Arthur shunned Francis from his thoughts, he didn't need that frog fouling his Poppy filled thoughts.

On the drive home Arthur almost ran a red light as he thought about Poppy, mostly it was about her smile. She had given Arthur the type of smile saved only for those with a connection and Arthur couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. For the first time in a long time he had garnered such a cute attention.

When Arthur finally returned home the first thing Matthew did was take Kumajiro out into the back garden, a small yellow tennis ball in his a hand. Arthur was glad that Matthew was in the back and out of ear shot. With his heart fluttering slightly he took out the worn piece of paper. He looked down at the numbers making sure he knew them all before he took out his mobile phone from his pocket.

She answered on the forth ring. "Hello?" Poppy said cheerily on the other end.

Every fibre in Arthur body told him to throw the phone out the window, it was such a juvenile feeling but it screamed at Arthur anyway.

Pushing aside said feelings Arthur let out a tiny breath before speaking. "Perhaps I should have waited longer to call, but I'm too old for that kind of teenager movie stuff." He got the sentence out smoothly.

There was a chuckle on the other end of the line. "Too be honest I wasn't sure you were even going to call."

"I still can't get over the fact you gave me your number." Arthur slipped off his blazer and folded it over the back of the couch.

Again there was another chuckle. "You're too kind," there was a slight pause before she spoke again. "There's this little restaurant which is by my apartment." Once again she paused, this time it was longer clearly she was struggling to get the words out. "Do you want to…God, I had this all planned out in my head."

Arthur laughed into the phone, he found her fluttering quiet adorable. "You're doing pretty well, keep going."

"You couldn't sound more condescending if you tried, could you?" There was a smirk behind her voice.

Arthur loosened his tie and began to stroll upstairs and towards his bedroom. "It could be worse. I could not have called you."

"I'm starting to wish you hadn't," she joked, the nervousnesses in her voice slowly easing up.

Arthur closed his bedroom door behind him, while pulling off his tie. In a few long strides he walked past his bed and towards the back window, he peered down and saw Matthew happily playing with Kumajiro. With a pop of his elbow Arthur threw his tie down on his bed.

"Since you're awful at asking a man on a date shall I try?" Arthur asked, surprised that he was able to keep himself composed and his voice smooth.

Poppy stifled a snort of laughter but it managed to wiggle its way out, despite her efforts. "Are all British people as arrogant as you?"

"Only the good looking ones." He left the window and took and sat down on the edge of the bed, putting an elbow on his knees.

"What makes you think you're part of that group?" Poppy said playfully.

Arthur was glad he was able to make Poppy a little comfortable, he knew how nervous she must have been and wanted to ease her to the best of his abilities, even if that meant getting insulted.

"Ouch, perhaps I won't ask you to dinner," Arthur smiled, he hadn't had this much fun just speaking with someone in a long time, he dreaded it to end.

Another snort came from Poppy, this time she allowed it to be free. "Okay, I'm sorry. Please, ask me."

"So there's a small restaurant by this apartment building – I have no idea where it is by the way – but I would love it if you would accompanied me there," he smiled, mostly at himself for being able to get the sentence out without any struggle.m

"Hmmm, I don't know really," teased the woman on the phone. "When are you free?"

"When do you get off your shift?"

There was a sputter the other line which caused Arthur to sweat furiously. Had he been too eager? Quickly, he tried to think of a plan before the whole phone call went south. However, Poppy spoke before he had the chance.

"I didn't expect that," she murmured slightly.

The smoothness in Arthur's voice went to hell and was replaced with a higher pitched and panicked tone. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to come across so eager. I mean, that isn't to say I'm not eager to have dinner with you – just not so soon. Wait. God, that came out wrong too."

Before Arthur could embarrass himself further, a sweet and gentle laugh escaped from the phone. "I finish up at six. Could you pick me up at seven?"

Relief washed over Arthur like holy water. "Seven it is," he said much more calmly. "Text me your address and I'll pick you up at seven."

Arthur could hear the smile on Poppy's face. "Great! I'll see you at seven then, Arthur."

"Seven it is, Poppy."

* * *

Elizabeta could the life drain from it. All sense of time was lost on her, she had no idea how long it had been since she had been taken. The only thing she did know was that death would soon envelop her in its dark arms. She was scared, she only knew of life, death was something she hadn't even thought about. However, her tears and long since dried and the only thing she felt was fear.

It was the type of fear which has an icy cold grip on your heart, the type of fear that's always in the back of your mind, never to surface.

For one last time she tugged at her chains but that was a fruitless action and she knew it. The pains her legs burned like a fiery hot acid, although she took comfort in the fact that soon it would be over, she could even feel the pain edge away lightly.

Elizabeta couldn't help but ask herself 'why'. Why where her legs so important to her captor, why were the other body parts so important too? Why was both herself right and those other girls subjected into such horrid lengths of torture.

Her thoughts were quickly interrupted as the shuffling of shoes started to edge down into the room she was in. An idea sprung int Elizabeta's head, even thought her life would soon end she had to do something in order to save the death of future girls.

As the steps got closer the shallower Elizabeta's breath became, finally halting when the footsteps entered the room. She listened as they strolled closer to the top of her body. A cold hand placed itself on her neck, it took every ounce of strength in her body not to flinch. The hand moved away from her neck and towards her hands. That's when Elizabeta made her move.

With one quick motion Elizabeta clawed at her captor, her nails scraped against skin. There was a sharp howl of a noise along with the clattering of metal. Elizabeta received three seconds of pride before a piece of sharp metal sliced through her nice as if it was butter.

As quickly as Elizabeta was alive, she was gone.

* * *

**_A/N: This perhaps will be a rather long authors note has I have a few things I want to quickly say. Usually this would be the part where I apologise for my absent but I don't think it's warranted. I had a major event happen in my real life hence why this update took so long. This event is still taking a toll on me and I may or may not be able to update as quickly as I once did. You may wait another few months for another update, I don't know. But like I said before I will not leave this incomplete. Even if it seems like I have gone away for ever I will eventually return with an update._**

**_Moving in slightly, this chapter, while not all that interesting, was actually my favourite to write. I think it's because it's a calm to a storm._**

**_Also to all the people who have followed or faved this story thank you for that, I am sorry I couldn't thank you all individually._**

**_Thank you from the buttom of my heart for reading/reviewing_**.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Ruined Date

Like a speeding bullet train, seven o'clock raced towards Arthur. By six thirty Arthur still wasn't even out the door, instead he was rushing around in his kitchen chugging down a coffee. The boys sat in the living room, watching as their father looked as if he was about to soil his trousers.

"What's got him all worked up?" Alfred asked, petting Kumajiro's fur.

"He's got a date," Matthew replied, he didn't know if he was happy for his father or annoyed at him.

Alfred made a puzzled face at his twin. "You're kidding, the old man has a date."

"I'm not old!" yelled Arthur from the kitchen.

After finishing his coffee Arthur strolled out of the kitchen and towards his sons. "I don't know why I'm worrying about you two. You have all the numbers right?"

"Yes," they replied in unison.

"You know the restaurant address?"

"Yes."

"I feel like I'm forgetting something," mumbled Arthur.

"Your date maybe?" said Alfred, annoyed at how much of a child his father was acting like.

"Fu-" Arthur ran into the hallway. "I'll be home late, but get to bed at a reasonable time!"

With one final check of his watch, Arthur waved goodbye to his sons and raced out the door. In a slight panicked sweat he threw himself into his car, while repeating Poppy's address. He hadn't been so nervous in a long time, in fact it was almost exhilarating, he was in a state of natural high.

Poppy's apartment building wasn't that far from his little town house, in fact he usually passed the building on his way to his office. Standing outside the building stood Poppy, her eyes wandering around at the street searching for Arthur. To let her know of his arrival, Arthur beeped his horn almost starling the poor girl.

With a cheery smile and excited steps, Poppy walked over to Arthur's car and slid into the passenger seat next to him.

"I almost didn't think you'd show up there for a second," she chuckled lightly, while placing her hand bag by her feet.

"Hello to you too," joked Arthur, as he began reversing the car. "How have you been since I last saw you?" he politely asked.

Poppy crossed her legs and shifted back into her seat, finding a comfortable spot to rest. "You were my only customer today, a lot of people just don't want to own dogs much anymore." She seemed sullen and angry at the same time.

Arthur smirked as he drove from the building. "You seem to be doing a great job looking after them at least. Which do I go?"

Poppy leaned forward and examined to road ahead. "Just straight down that road then turn left when you get to the traffic lights," she said, extended her hand forward.

Arthur followed the woman's instructions while engaging in some light small talk. It had been a while since Arthur had been on a date and he was surprised to see everything going so well. Even though he hadn't known the woman for long he was still able to keep her chatting away throughout their car ride.

The small cute restaurant Poppy had led him to was rather endearing. It wasn't as fancy as his usual taste but the calming ambiance was enough to hold Arthur's interest. There was no employed at the restaurant to greet the two nor seat them, so Poppy pulled at Arthur's sleeve and gestured to a booth by a window on the left of the establishment. The two sat down into the used seats still exchanging words, mostly from Poppy.

Just after a bored looking waiter flopped down two grubby looking menus Poppy let out a wide eyed expression. "God, I haven't shut up have I?" she said, putting a hand to her pink lips.

Arthur shrugged, while scanning the menu. "I didn't notice."

Poppy let out a slight cackle. "Since I've done most of the talking maybe you should have a go?"

"If you'd really love to hear me speak then fine," he smiled at her and sat down his menu. "Anything you'd like to know?"

Poppy crossed her arms atop the table, giving herself time to think of a questions. "Tell me about your family? That sounds like a good start."

Arthur let out a quick dry laugh. "Oh," winced Arthur. "Do you want the heavy stuff, or the light stuff?"

"Since it's our first date I'll go with light," Poppy suggested.

Arthur looked to the side trying to think of how to start. "Well as you know I have two sons from my previous marriage. Which was to a man by the way."

Just as the words escaped Arthur's mouth he noticed a startled look on her face. Instantly he regretted saying the words, perhaps he should have kept that to himself. Goodness only knew what Poppy thought of him after that revelation, it seemed to him that his date was dead just after that one sentence. Then Poppy spoke in a small hushed voice.

"Your sons are adopted then?" she whispered so quietly that Arthur almost thought he had imagined her speaking.

"Um, yes," mumble Arthur confused. "Does…does that bother you?"

Poppy looked up, her eyes with a weird mist in them. "Not at all. Sorry I interrupted you, please continue."

Apprehensively Arthur continued his story. "Um, yes. So, uh, where was I? Oh, yes my previous marriage. Actually I'm not long divorced."

Another shocked look came from Poppy's face, only this time it was less brutal.

She didn't say anything so Arthur continued his story. "Also my two boys are twins and just turned seventeen not that long ago."

"How did your marriage end?" questioned Poppy.

Arthur decided not to beat around the bush and quickly spoke. "I caught him in bed with another woman."

Poppy chocked on her own saliva. "Wow…that…God, erm. Gimme a second to reply to that."

At the girls stuttering, Arthur couldn't help but laugh. "You don't have to. Our marriage was a mess anyway, it was doomed from the start if I'm being honest."

Poppy looked around, feeling uneasy. She wanted to say something comforting to Arthur but didn't know which route to take. She could try being sympathetic and offer him a soft look but in her eyes Arthur didn't seem like the kind of man who needed that. So instead she went for a slightly more comedic route.

"I thought you said that was the light stuff," she said with a raised eyebrow.

"Compared to the rest, it's light," he let out a snigger. "How many dates do we have to go until I drop the more heavy stuff on you."

Poppy shared his snigger. "Around our seventh date maybe."

Arthur made a fake wincing expression. "I'm damaged goods, do you really want a seventh date?"

Just as Poppy opened her mouth to speak again a loud chime signalled another customer entering the restaurant. While Arthur couldn't see who was entering, due to his side of the booth only seeing the back of the restaurant, he knew exactly who it was.

"I don't see why you choose this place," exclaimed rather rudely, an all too familiar voice.

"Fuck," Arthur grabbed on of the menus and used it as a shield for his face.

Concerned, Poppy looked around the room at a blond haired man walking towards the far end of the restaurant with a slender and extremely good looking woman. With a puzzled look she returned her gaze to Arthur who still hadn't dropped the menu.

"Are you okay?"

"That's my ex-husband," he hissed out quickly and much more harsher than he intended to.

Luckily Poppy understood Arthur harshness and quickly scanned the small place looking for an escape. In theory they could just quickly walk to the front door and leave but the loud chime would alert the other two. The only other option was the fire exit door near the men's bathroom, the only problem was that it was slight near Francis' table. If they were quiet and didn't draw attention to themselves they could easily sneak by without anyone noticing.

Poppy leaned closer to Arthur who was enveloped by the menu. "The only way out is by the men's room."

Arthur looked up at her, all his coolness and class gone, replaced by a red face man.

Poppy took Arthur hand and pulled him up out of the booth. Just as she thought, the other couple didn't even notice as the swiftly walked towards the fire exit. Within seconds they were out the door and at the back of the restaurant. All the while Poppy still clutched onto Arthur's hand.

She looked back at Arthur who just stared at the other side of the door, a gloomy look on his face.

"Arthur-"

"That was her," he said, suddenly.

Confused Poppy let go of Arthur hand and stood in front of him. "Come on let's just get to the car."

She gestured for him to move and reluctantly he did so, he wanted to march back into the place and beat the living day lights out of Francis. Having him show up with that woman felt like a punch to the gut. Even though he knew it wasn't the girls fault he couldn't help but have a festering hatred for the two.

The hatred burned so deeply inside Arthur that he almost didn't hear Poppy snap at him as he drove down a road. "Left Arthur."

Snapping out of his daydream Arthur quickly turned the car. "Sorry about…"

For some reason he couldn't finish instead he drove up to the apartment building where Poppy lived, a feeling of guilt sat in his stomach. He had ruined their date. Perhaps he wasn't even ready to start dating again, Arthur felt like he had blown any chance with the woman sitting next to him.

The car stopped and Arthur waited for an awkward exchange between the two, but it never happened.

"I have some really nice frozen lasagne in my freezer, it's not fine dining or anything," she let out a chuckle.

Arthur looked at her and smiled, she really was such a sweet person.

"I'd eat just about anything right now," he laughed back.

Reassured that his date was still salvageable, Arthur followed Poppy through the building and into a small studio apartment. Judging by the outside Arthur had extremely low expectations on Poppy's living space, he was almost blown away by the apartment décor. White bricks gave the place a modern touch while the hardwood flooring made it look much more extravagant and homely. Family pictures adorned the walls and flat surfaces, along with fresh flowers and a few stuffed animals.

"Sorry the place is a mess," Poppy said, straightening up a bookshelf filled with opened books and newspapers.

After that was sorted out she fled to the double bed which was hidden behind the shelf. "Make yourself at home!" she called back.

Arthur took off his jacket and blazer, setting them down behind the couch which was in front of a pretty large looking television. In fact Arthur noticed that Poppy had quiet an expensive taste in furniture. Most of the furnishings seemed to be made from mahogany, a computer was set up in the corner which looked much more high-tech than anything Arthur had ever laid eyes on, there was even a tablet and laptop sitting on the coffee table.

Not waiting to be too rude but still wanting to satisfy his curiosity Arthur spoke up. "Your TV looks bigger than mine," he laughed out.

Poppy came back from behind the book selfs, her jacket and shoes off. "Yeah my technically my dad paid for it, and most of the things here."

She walked over to the kitchen space, while gesturing for Arthur to follow her.

"Is he like a CEO or something?" he asked half jokingly.

"Uh, no he's dead," Poppy said bluntly.

Arthur's expression dropped and Poppy watched with amusement. "I…uh…I'm sorry to hear that."

Poppy snorted out a laugh. "It was years ago, but it's still great to see that face people make whenever I tell them."

She pulled open the fridge door and went through the freezer, quickly pulling out two frozen meals. "When he died I sold his house and just used the money to redo this dump."

"Well you did an amazing job," complimented Arthur.

Poppy smiled as she moved over to the oven and shoved in the two meals, before firing up the appliance. "What about your parents?"

Arthur pulled a face. "Well that's the heavy stuff, I thought that was only for our seventh date."

Poppy smirked and leaned against the counter, beckoning for Arthur to sit at the small dining table. "Well I'm slightly curious, I kinda like hearing about how fucked up people's lives are."

Arthur sat down and looked at his watch. "We could be here all night if you want those stories."

"I'll go into my pyjamas then," Poppy joked.

Arthur smiled at her and started to speak. "Well the last time I spoke to my father was about…um…well a long time ago. He called me all kinds of names and threatened to kill me if he ever saw me again."

"Wow, that is fucked up."

"My father was a hardcore Catholic, saw my choice in partner as the worst kind of sin," Arthur let out a fake smile, acting as if it didn't bother him. "I only really invited him to my wedding as a joke anyway."

Telling his story as if it was a joke was really the only way Arthur could tell said story without crawling into a ball and sobbing his eyes out. The only person who knew his true feelings was Francis. Of course Arthur had perfected the act and Poppy fell for it, giggling away with Arthur.

"Still that must suck," she said.

"Meh, I'm over it," lied Arthur.

Poppy pushed off the counter and rubbed her back, clearly uncomfortable. "Wanna move to the couch, there should be some really bad TV on right about now."

"How can I refuse such a tempting offer?" Arthur asked, sarcastically.

The two walked strolled to the lush couch and leaned back into the soft pillows. Poppy took charge of the remote and began flicking through channels. Eventually she settled on a light hearted comedy which Arthur hadn't seen before. Around the ten minute mark she scouted closer to Arthur, slumping her head on his shoulder. All of Arthur's nerves went into over drive. He wanted to make sure Poppy was comfortable, his mind raced as he tried to stay perfectly still while making sure his shoulder was at its highest point of comfort. He couldn't even focus on the television show in fear that he would cease to be comfortable.

An idea popped into his head as the show neared its end. Poppy had kept her head rest quietly on him and Arthur didn't want to make himself seem distance. He planned on moving his arm and draping it across the woman, but just as he was about to Poppy stood up and moved to the kitchen.

Arthur swore in his mind. He looked over the couch and watched as Poppy fussed around inside her kitchen space.

"Do you need any help?" he asked.

"I'm good, I can make this in my sleep."

Arthur stood up from the couch nevertheless and wandered over to the kitchen. Like a lost lamb he began looking through cupboards.

"The glasses are above the sink," said Poppy, a giggle in her voice as she scoped out the steaming lasagna. "Ah, shit."

"What's wrong?" asked Arthur, as he discovered two wine glasses.

Poppy let out a sigh of frustration. "I may have burnt the bottom a little."

Arthur shrugged his shoulders as the placed the glasses down on the table. "I don't really mind," he said, making an attempt at reassuring her, while pulling open the fridge and fishing out a bottle of red wine to pour.

"It's still annoying, I really should manage my time more," she grumbled, while setting down the plates on the table.

Arthur sat down across from his date after he had finished pouring the wine. Poppy was the one to speak first during their meal.

"So, you have a bad relationship with your father? Care to tell me more heavy stuff?" she said, a cheeky smile on her lips.

Pushing around his food with his fork Arthur prepared himself. In his mind he had scripted the perfect play on his father, it was easy for him to follow and he had perfected it to the point where he had started believing it himself.

"He was always a bit of a tosser, drank a lot, hated basically everyone that wasn't just like him. The usual cliched tragic back story," Arthur said through mouthfuls. "It isn't really that heavy I just wanted to seem mysterious."

Poppy laughed. "You did a good job of that, I was well and truly interested in you. Know that the mystery is gone, I think the date should end."

"Come on I'm not even finished my food yet!"

The two shared a belly laugh. A laugh Arthur had rarely shared with anyone else in a long time. As he looked over at the woman in front of him a swirling sensation stirred inside his stomach. It was a feeling he hoped he could have held onto for a long time.

Their date seemed to come to an end after the meal. Arthur thanked Poppy for her cooking and she walked him I to the door. There was an unwillingness between the two. Arthur secretly didn't want to leave and Poppy shared his feelings, but none wanted to show those feelings first.

Standing by the doorway Arthur didn't really know how to end the night in the correct fashion, was he supposed to hug her? Shake her hand? Kiss her? He just couldn't tell.

"Tonight was fun, we should do this again," Poppy drew out her sentence.

"Yes, I agree. We should go out on a actual date next time however."

An awkward giggle past between the two extended their time together. After what seemed like an age Arthur leaned closer to the girl, his heart set on a friendly hug between them. Poppy got to wrong signal but Arthur showed no signs of complaining.

Poppy moved a few more inches closer and within moments their mouths touched. Both their pluses sped up rapidly and all their senses went wild. Giving into what his body screamed at him to do, Arthur grabbed her waist and pulled him closer to her. He would have happily gone all the way right then and their if it wasn't for Poppy pushing away and just staring up at Arthur.

There was a strange pang at his heart as he looked down at her. On her face was an expression Arthur had never been given before. It was the type of expression one had when looking at something so wonderful that a persons eyes widen with sheer joy.

"I'll definitely do this again," Poppy whispered slowly.

**_A/N: I didn't think I would get this out as quickly as I did. Yet again it's another mild chapter but it ain't stay that way for very long. Like I said in my previous authors note I don't know when I will update only that eventually I will. _**

**_Thank you for reading/reviewing ._**


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18: A Beautiful Doll**

Black coffee made its way down through Toris, his eyes were tired and he couldn't help but yawn. No matter how much caffeine he poured into his body, the lethargic feeling just would not shake itself from his slim body. The caffeine also did no help to his stress. Soon Arthur would enter the office and Toris tried to prepare for the storm.

When Arthur first found out about Elizabeta he threw a fit, going so far as to chuck a few folders off his desk. Pure blind fiery rage burned in his eyes. He cursed down the reporter, calling her every name under the sun.

As he fidgeted non-stop, Toris stared at the clock, willing the handles to stop moving. He even planned exit strategies and one of his friends on speed dial to come up for an excuse for him to leave the room.

He expect a storm, a storm which was coming his way.

The hand hit nine o'clock.

The breeze came.

"Morning," said Arthur, holding a mug of warm tea and a folder under his arms.

Toris watched with anticipation as Arthur sat down at his desk. He thought that this calmness Arthur had must have been just an act, something to throw him and that as soon as Arthur got the chance he would unleash his fury.

"Did you get Cheryl's email this morning?" he asked, bringing the mug to his lips.

"No," Toris shook his head and spoke calmly, as if he was talking to a frothing dog.

Arthur set down his mug. "Basically, she said that Mark made an attempt to contact that reporter, but she still hasn't returned his calls. They asked us to go to her home this afternoon."

"That's good."

Arthur noticed the strange stiffness Toris had at that moment. He raised on eyebrow at his partner before swinging his chair all the way round to face him. "Are you okay, Toris?"

Allowing himself to give into his anxiousness Toris slammed his hands on his desk. "Would you please stop being so nice! It's freaking me the hell out! Just yell already!"

Arthur jerked back slightly at Toris' outburst. "Is this about the other day?"

"Of course it is! I couldn't sleep a wink after it!" Toris exclaimed. "I tried to get that woman out of the scene as soon as I could and it still didn't help!"

Arthur put up his hands and tried to settle the younger man. "Okay, okay, I think you need to calm down!"

"I am calm!" sputtered Toris. "The question is why are you! How are you so damn calm right now! I thought you would be yelling at me something awful."

After a few moments of silences after the outburst Arthur let out a laugh, a laugh which filled the room. "I think this is the first time I've actually seen you yell at me. Is this what it feels like on your end. Godness, I really should start anger management or something."

Arthur turned back to his computer and started to filter through some more of his emails.

"You...you mean you're not mad?" Toris managed to settle down and return to a calmer state of mind.

"Of course not, I just was angry at the time. It wasn't your fault and too be honest I acted really badly last time we were here. I apologise."

"What's the matter with you right now, did you have a stroke or something?" Toris stood up and walked to stand beside Arthur's desk.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I am perfectly healthy. I just...I just have had other things going on right now."

"Wait...you're smiling!"

Toris grabbed the back of Arthur's chair and made him face him.

"This is very unprofessional, need I remind you there's a lot of paperwork I have to catch up on right now," said Arthur, as he spun back in his chair.

Toris stood up straight and looked down at a happy looking Arthur. In his many years of working with the man he seeing him smiling so much was a rarity, especially giving his circumstances. "Are you going to be like this all day because it would be great if you would be."

Arthur scoffed out a hearty laugh as he clicked away at his computer. Mostly convinced that Arthur was not being dormant before letting out all his rage, Toris retuned to his desk and continued with his work.

It was around ten thirty when Arthur's phone rang just as they were finishing up some last pieces of paper work and preparing to head out and visit Elizabeta. Arthur quickly excused himself out into the hushed hallway clear for eager ears.

He answered the call with a cheery tone. "Hey."

"I hope I'm not interruption you right now," said an equally cheery voice.

"I'm just about to head out for a something but I have a few spare seconds," Arthur said, smiling.

A small laugh was heard from the other end. "A few seconds, is that all I'm worth."

"Well I do have a job, I have to pay my mortgage some how."

"I love this adult talk you have right now, you sure know how to get a girl going," Poppy said, Arthur could even feel a jokey eye roll on her end. "I just wanted to call and ask if you wanted to take me to dinner again this weekend. I'll make sure you don't run into any ex-husbands this time."

Arthur sniggered. "He has a bad habit of showing up at random places."

"Maybe we should just invite him to dinner with us then, save all the awkwardness," she joked. "But seriously. Dinner?"

"Definitely, I'll call you later tonight once the boys are asleep."

"Why? Are you ashamed of me or something?"

Arthur's face quickly reddened, he worried he had offended Poppy. "No. I didn't mean anything of the sort. I just-"

Poppy's hearty laugh cut him off. "I was joking Arthur. I understand. But I shall eagerly await your call."

Arthur let out a breath of relief.

"Shit. I have to go now. I think some of the cats are scrapping right now. Bye!" The call ended.

Arthur put his phone back into his pocket and went back into his office, where Toris was pulling on his jacket.

"Who was that?" Toris asked, as he fished out car keys from his pocket.

"Telemarketers."

Toris gave no second thought to Arthur's lie and did not peruse the topic any further.

The two men walked through the office, exchanging looks of greetings to their colleagues as they moved through the halls. Eventually they came to the parking lot where their car sat awaiting them.

After strapping themselves into the car they took a short drive towards a rather modern side of their town.

The building they were heading to was Elizabeta's home address, which they got from a newspaper she usually freelanced for. The front of the building worked on a buzzer system, which Elizabeta did not answer. After many fruitless attempts at getting an answer from the woman the rang the landlord.

The landlord was a middle aged man who was rather wary of the detectives presence. After a bit of perseverance and persuasion from the men the landlord allowed them access to Elizabeta's apartment.

"We shouldn't take too long sir," said Toris to the landlord.

Arthur walked straight into the flat and did a quick look around the room. It was tiny, much smaller than Arthur first thought. In fact, he didn't really know what he expected.

Toris wandered to the small counters which seemed to be a kitchen, a stack of newspapers were littered around all of them had scribbles on them or things highlighted. Each article was about the recent murdered, some of them were front page others were just little side articles which played down the serial killer.

"She was really obsessed with this case," mumbled Toris, as he read the article.

Arthur took a small glance at the papers but didn't pay them much attention. Instead he focused on the answering machine which sat on a coffee table surrounded by a couch and an armchair. A flashing red fourteen lit up on the machine. Not caring about the woman's privacy he pushed a button and let the messages play out. The first eight were just from family members who seemed to be annoyed that she wasn't answering their calls. Arthur didn't give them much thought until the ninth one began to play.

"For goodness sake Elizabeta, would you pick up. This isn't like you." There was a pause before a groan. "Just get back to me. I'm getting worried."

Arthur sat down on the couch and leaned closer to hear the machine better.

The tenth message was in Hungarian but Arthur could hear a panicked tone in a woman's voice. The eleventh message was also in Hungarian only it came from a man, who seemed to be on the verge of tears.

"Her family is very worried about it," said Arthur, as he paused the messages.

"Eliza, your mother just called me, where are you! I know we haven't spoken in a while but you must call me. As soon as you get this please, you still have my number I hope."

Arthur turned to look at Toris. "See if you can find a diary of numbers or something."

Toris nodded and went through a door which led to a bedroom, the sounds of shuffling and drawers opening could be heard from the room.

The next messaged played, this time it wasn't a concerned mother or a crying father but someone with angry brewing in their voice. "Don't make me call you again Elizabeta. You're behind by two days, if I don't get that article by this afternoon you can kiss that damn job goodbye!"

Arthur winced as he heard a slam from the phone. The next message was a telemarketer which Arthur quickly skipped as he eyerolled. The last message was by the same angry man, only this time he seemed furious.

"I can't believe you still haven't sent me that article! I took a fucking chance on you, you worthless bitch! I'll make sure you never have a job with any newspaper again!"

Toris returned just as the messages ended with a small black book he was looking through. Arthur looked up at him, all hate he once felt for Ezliabeta was replaced with some mild concern. While Arthur didn't really know much about the girl she didn't seem like the type of person who would risk her job by not answering someone, nor would she make her family worried.

Toris handed Arthur the book, opened at a page with thick red lines of the name and number.

"I can just make out the name and number but she doesn't seem to have fondness over this, Roderich Edelstein. I'm gonna call him and see if I can set up some kind of meeting."

Just as Arthur pulled out his phone it started to ring, the name 'Cheryl' lighting up. "Hello, Cheryl has there been any news?"

"Unfortunately we have found Miss. Héderváry. She, um..." Cheryl suttered over the phone.

Arthur lowered his head and pinched the space between his eyes and sighed. "She's the next victim isn't she."

"Yes sir."

"Tell me the address and we'll head there right now."

Elizabeta's body was strangely beautiful, the way she was positioned made it seem as if she was a priceless doll posing for a camera. Her pale cold skin shimmered in the sunlight, her bright green dead eyes looked off somewhere in the distance. The only thing which ruined the rather beautiful image was the gaping slash in her neck and her missing legs.

Arthur was knelt beside her and hated himself at that very moment. He had been so judgmental towards the girl, every since he was introduced to her he hated her guts. Now here she was, limp and lifeless.

Arthur stood up and crossed the police tape, a blank look on his face. Toris walked up to his partner, an equally blank look on his face.

"What should we do?" he asked.

Arthur rubbed his face. "We go speak to Mr. Roderich let him know, then we see that angry man on her answering machine. Did you find out who he was?"

Toris nodded and looked at a note written on his hand. "A man called Jasper O'Conolly. He's an editor at a local newspaper. I asked Cheryl to call him and let us know when he's free."

Arthur began to walk towards the car. "Let's hope one of them have an answer for us."

* * *

_**A/N: It's been well over three months since my last update but I feel like now I should hopefully be able to start posting more commonly now. Thank you all for being patient with me.**_

_**Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading/reviewing.**_


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19: Piano Keys**

Roderich's home was something out of a fairy tale. It sat right outside the city, away from all the chaos and noise. Arthur felt as if he was almost in a different world. Outside, people tended to gardens behind large black metal gates and brick walls. Fancy looking guests seemed to be having a picnic by a rose bush, enjoying their wealth and class. Arthur had a slight envy of them, it reminded him of home. A home he wanted to forget.

Cheryl had called up Roderich just before the two partners arrived; a man dressed in a neat suit awaited them by the gates.

"Mr. Kirkland I assume?" said the man.

Arthur nodded his head and showed the man some form of identification. "This is my partner Mr. Laurinaitis."

Toris held up his own ID and the suited man nodded to them. "Mr. Edelstein, is in the piano room."

Arthur thanked the man before rolling up his window and driving through the gates.

"I don't think I've ever seen a house this big before," Toris commented, looking around in awe.

Arthur spotted minor details, like a large shed hidden away by some bushes, a few muscular looking gardeners, shifty eyed women, and some bored looking guests. However, all of them seemed on the edge by the presence of the two detectives.

"Do you think he has something to do with these murders?" questioned Toris, taking note of Arthur's face.

"Something's definitely wrong with this place that's for sure."

A valet took their car away from them when they reached the front of the manor. The boy was scrawny and very weak, but he seemed eager nevertheless. Arthur slipped him a tip just as he handed the boy his car keys.

A woman dressed in blue jeans and a white blouse walked up to them at the entrance of the house.

"Detectives!" she called out, waving to them slightly as she bobbed down to them. "You're secretary Cheryl spoke to me on the phone." The woman rubbed away at some sweat on her brow. "Mr. Edelstein asked me to greet you and to show you where the piano room is."

Arthur could hear soft piano keys being played, the music pranced around the house elegantly. Arthur was instantly brought back to his childhood, which made him feel sick and uneasy. His mother used to play the piano, granted she was never as skilled as whoever was playing the notes then, but she still could play a melody beautifully.

Arthur quickly tried to shun away the memories in favour of extending his hand towards the woman in front of him.

"Yes we're here to see Mr. Edelstein," he said, feeling his voice waver slightly.

The woman shook his hand firmly and gave him a small smile. "My names Carol, I'm sorry but I cannot show you the room personally. I have…other matters to attend to right now." She stood back slightly and pointed down the large hall they stood in. "If you just keep going down you'll find a set of glass doors. Mr. Edelstein is right through those doors."

Without saying so much as a farewell she bounced away from the two men and out of the manor. She seemed rather nervous and almost frantic as she lightly jogged away from them.

The two men took the directions Carol had given to them.

"There's a really tense air here," said Toris. "You feel it too right?"

Arthur nodded his head, but didn't say anything back to his partner.

"Do you think this could be our guy?"

Arthur shrugged his shoulders.

The piano keys grew louder as they approached a beautiful set of glass doors. In the sunlight they looked like clear water waves, giving the manor an almost angelic feel to it, despite the odd tension in the air.

Arthur threw open the doors and the piano music stopped abruptly.

Sitting in the center of the room was a lean man with glasses. The man looked like he belonged to nobility, with his sleek black hair and dainty features, even the tiny mole on the side of his face looked worth more than Arthur's salary for that year.

"Mr. Edelstein, I presume?" Arthur asked.

The man stood up from the piano but didn't walk towards the detectives, instead letting them come to him.

"Detective Kirkland then? Carol said you'd pay me a visit, I'm guessing this is about Elizabeta."

"Correct, we'd just like to ask you a few questions. Could we move into another room?" Arthur asked.

Roderich sat back down, having a slight childish pout on his face. "I'd much rather we just talk here please."

Arthur mentally punched the snobby man in the face but on the outside he kept a calm composure.

"If you wish so," Arthur walked towards the piano while Toris wandered around the room, looking at various paintings on the walls.

"I found a small contact diary in Elizabeta's house, your name was pretty defaced when I saw it," mention Arthur, remembering the thick red lines in the diary.

Roderich sighed slightly. "We used to be together, we're divorced, and of course you'd do things like that to an ex's name. Wouldn't you?"

Arthur did much worse.

"How long were the two of you together?" he asked.

Roderich took a moment to think before speaking again. "We dated for around five years, married only two. Divorced three months ago."

"So seven years is your answer," Arthur said.

Roderich snapped his head to the detective, looking as if he had just kicked his dog. "Yes, seven years."

"Did the two of you end on good terms or…?"

"I know quite well what you are trying to suggest, Mr. Kirkland and I don't very much care for it," Roderich seemed like he was on the verge of yelling. He took a few seconds to regain his composure.

Arthur took this time to prod at the man more. "If you understand then you wouldn't mind answering my question. I'm just doing my job."

Roderich pushed up his glasses and undid the top button of his shirt. "You shouldn't be questioning me, I bet _he _did it."

Arthur leaned forward. "Who's he?"

Roderich sighed deeply before speaking again. "The reason we divorced is because I was jealous." Roderich looked at Arthur who stood listening. "She…this man who we used to go to school with was best friends with Elizabeta. He always wanted more from her the idiot. Elizabeta would always run off to him whenever she was sad or when we fought. I told her to stop – because I knew he was into her but she was so blind." Roderich's voice grew in volume, he became so loud that his voice cracked.

As he took a small pause Arthur took his chance to speak again. "What makes you think he could have killed her?"

"Because he's a violent thug!" Roderich stood up abruptly." Even when we were children he was always pushing me to the ground, stomping on my glasses!"

Arthur rolled his eyes, this was starting to turn more into a television soap opera. "Could you give me some details about this man, like his name? And I'll contact him."

"His name is Gilbert Beilschmidt."

Arthur cursed in his head, he knew that man. Of course he didn't show that through his face, but he felt on the edge. If someone found out about a connection between Gilbert and Arthur he could be taken off the case. Most likely it wouldn't come to that but Arthur made a note to be careful.

After Roderich ranted a little more about Gilbert, Arthur wrapped up the interview. He told the posh man where Elizabeta's body was and that if Arthur had any more questions he'd contact Roderich.

Once the two detectives where back in the car Toris spoke. "That was some early afternoon TV drama there. Are you going to follow up on that Beilschmidt man?"

Arthur sighed, he stood in two minds for a few seconds; conflicted on if he should tell Toris about his involvement with Gilbert.

"I know the guy, he's Matthew's godfather," Arthur rolled his eyes again. "Doesn't seem capable of murder but he could give some insight into Elizabeta, she was reporting on this case after all."

Toris nodded his head. "I thought his name was familiar, I just couldn't remember. When should we contact him?"

"We still have Mr. O'Conolly to speak to, has Cheryl asked him to come down to the station?" asked Arthur.

Toris checked his phone and opened an unread message. "Yeah, he's waiting there for us now."

Jasper O'Connoly was a short man, grey hairs sprouted out the sides of his head despite his face looking far too young. He stared at Arthur when he entered the interview room, with hatred in his eyes.

"I've been sittin' here for almost fifteen minutes. I have deadlines to meet, you know!" Jasper crossed his arms and tapped his foot. "Is this gonna take long? What even is this all about?"

Arthur slowly sat down on the chair, he delicately placed a folder on a table and crossed his hands over said folder. "Mr. O'Connoly, I'm here to speak with you about a Miss. Elizabeta-" Arthur opened the file and looked at the girl's second name. "-Héderváry."

"Oh, that bitch. What's she done?" asked Jasper, a smirk on his lips.

"Just to confirm, were you her employer?" Arthur asked.

Jasper nodded. "She's been with me for a few months, she came to me sprouting on about how she loved my paper and my work. Not gonna lie she knows just how to charm her way through a conversation." Jasper laughed and gestured for Arthur to join him but the British man kept a straight face.

"Anyway," coughed Jasper. "I brought her on as one of my writers – freelance – and at first she gave me some okay stuff, not worth much – certainly not worth hiring her full-time."

Arthur put his hand up in order to ask a question. "She wanted to be with your company full time?"

Jasper nodded his head. "She came just looking for a job, expected it without so much as a piece of writing to show off her style."

"But you took her on anyway despite that?"

Jasper shook his head. "I gave her a deadline and she met it. Then I gave her another one. The last one she didn't meet. Actually is she here! The bitch has fucked me over with this last deadline."

Arthur shook his head and began to open up the file, the picture of a dead Elizabeta in between his fingers. "Unfortunately no, she was found dead today."

Arthur showed the man the picture and his face turned chalk white. "Oh, fuck. Jesus…dead? Someone killed her?"

Arthur nodded and returned the photograph into the file. "I have reason to believe that she's part of a string of murders that has recently been going on. From a previous interaction I had with Elizabeta, she was following the case, no?"

Jasper nodded. "Yeah, I don't know why but when she heard about that first victim – the high schooler – she just couldn't stop. Everyday she'd call me up asking if someone had any leads. Heck she even called me late at night." Jasper looked up at Arthur. "Do you think he killed her because she found something?"

"I don't know, that's what I'm asking you? Did she give you any information that might help us with this case," Arthur looked a Jaspers as his eyes darted around the room, as if the answer lied in the corners somewhere. "Anything at all would help us, Mr. O'Connoly."

Jasper sat for a while, trying his best to recall the conversations he and Elizabeta had. "I'm sorry detective…I got nothing. She seemed almost as clueless as you were."

Arthur thought that would have been the answer. "It's okay, one finally question. What do you know about Elizabeta's personal life, did she tell you anything?"

"She complained about her ex-husband, I think the two of them were thinking about getting back together. Wait," Jasper looked up at Arthur has he remembered something. "There was this guy in her house one day, he had really white hair, the two of them were arguing. I don't know what about but he looked like he was gonna hit her just before I got there. Seemed like a really angry guy."

Arthur nodded his head and stood up. "Thanks for your help, someone will come back into this room and will escort you out."

"Hey," Jasper stopped Arthur. "Which body part did he take from her?"

"Her legs, why?"

"Elizabeta thought he – the guy who's murdering – had some weird eye kink with the first girl…then he took the hands, another girls ears and…"

Arthur turned around. "Go on."

"She thinks the guy whose doing this is trying to make something. She said it was one of the possibilities since eyes, hands and ears seemed to be too different body parts to have any connection. And now that he's took her legs…seems like she could have been onto something."

Arthur thanked the man once more and raced out of the interview room and into his office. Toris spoke to Arthur but he didn't catch any word of what he was saying.

Arthur grabbed a marker pen and began to draw a basic human body. Once the outline was made and wrote the body parts that had already been taken. Once he finished that Arthur counted off body part which remained.

"Arthur, what did Jasper say?"

Arthur didn't answer and instead just uttered. "There's going to be at least six more victims."

_**Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading/reviewing.**_


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